the places we should have gone.

. . .

love transcends any dialect. to whatever scene is being played out in a relationship, love is universal. the joys, the pain, the ups and downs. we feel it all, share it all. because we’re human. watch this beautifully filmed short story by wong fu productions. even if you don’t speak the language, you’ll understand. trust.

a little over three years ago, i moved down to san diego. it’s not a significant distance from my hometown of los angeles, about a two hour drive. but it was enough distance for me to separate myself from all things familiar. at that time in my life, i needed to get out. i was feeling stagnant, tired and annoyed of the scene. i needed a fresh breath of something new and someone new. i needed to get lost in a city that i didn’t know and reinvent myself. meet new people and get lost in their stories for a while. so i did.

i discovered new restaurants, walked down new streets, smiled at random people. started making a new home for myself. started to make things familiar a bit. but just not enough where i’d get comfortable. i liked exploring, getting lost, and reinventing. i started making places mine. the sushi spot in hillcrest, the pizza joint in ob, the sunset cliffs, the little village in la jolla. they were my places. places i’d introduce my friends to when they came to visit.

about two years later, i moved back to los angeles. left my empty apartment near balboa park and came back to familiarity. it’s weird coming back home. not much had changed, but you still recognize the little things that had. like the new stoplight down the block or the new coffee bean that took over the old mom and pop shop. little changes, but you still recognize them.

i told my los angeles native all about san diego. we were to go there together and i’d show him around. i told him where we should eat, what we should see. i felt special because i knew where to take him. i made the city mine for those two years. and i wanted to share those experiences with him. and i planned and i fantasized how great it would be to show him a little bit of me. maybe walk down coronado beach and take in the sights up mount soledad. the places and experiences that came to mold me. a city isn’t just a city of streets and buildings. a city is the backdrop to experiences and stories. and i wanted to share my story with him.

but of course, plans didn’t fall through. i saw him again. and he told me how he went to san diego for the weekend with friends. how he didn’t really like it, how he wished i was there to show him around. and he spoke of my city to me. and all the places he went to. all the places i told him we should go. he was there like a stranger in my city. in all the familiar ports and down all the familiar highways. walking down the pavements i walked and seeing the ocean that i saw everyday.

we don’t realize what we have til it’s gone. it’s been said so much, it rolls off our tongues like air. he asked me, why i don’t call him anymore. and i have no answer. it’s like being stuck in a city for so long. the fake people and the bad relationships you have in the city taint its name. so you move along. find somewhere new. and you come to appreciate things again. i’m not gonna forget where i came from, but i don’t want to remain somewhere where i don’t belong.

like the girl in the short film. some try to forget. some tend to dwell. me? i will do neither.