Dear Los Angeles,
As of today, we have 56 days left together—exactly eight weeks—before I will wake up in a different city. To say goodbye, I want to say thank you.
I was sixteen the first time I really noticed you. I was in English class and our teacher handed out a short story by a writer I didn’t know. The story was unnerving. Its language was delicate in some parts and deeply twisted in others, like wildflowers growing through a wrought-iron fence. It was Joan Didion’s “Los Angeles Notebook,” and it moved me to the point that I went in search of her books. Thus, the first things I knew about you were all the ways you could estrange and mangle my psyche.
This, of course, was...Read More