A cross breeze gently stirs the blinds in the living room — animating them like a ghostly marionette.
Early morning moonlight glances across the mirrors piled on tables, which are stacked on chairs, which are turned in every possible arabesque-like contortion — everything fitting together in a hoarderish Jenga.
The macaw from the unit across the courtyard rouses, belting out a few throaty caw caw‘s before settling back into her early morning haze. Sweaty socks from our run cling to my feet like a second skin.
And I feel rejuvenated.
It’s a new day. A new week.
A new beginning.
It’s hard to believe we’ve been living in California for almost half a year. So much has happened. And just getting out here has been punctuated with every possible test imaginable as we started over.
And now, we’re starting over again.
Almost immediately after landing in Los Angeles, we realized that there’s a certain mysterious gravitational pull to this place. There’s grit and beauty, noise and quiet — everything that attracts and repels.
I never envisioned living in such a large city. But now, the streets are more familiar. The freeways less imposing. Goals seemingly cemented on the horizon — like distant dots — now much closer, more accessible, like low-hanging fruit.
Our time here has been exhausting and invigorating. We both started over professionally. We’ve pushed ourselves out of our respective comfort zones — leaving our loved ones, our friends, in search of some new adventure.
And it’s been hard.
But what’s been borne out of this entire process has been something indescribable — a feeling of possibility. Of realizing that so many things we thought were so completely unattainable six months ago are now dancing around our fingertips, and we just have to keep reaching for them.
Leaving everything — and everyone — you know for something else, some nebulous blob of unrealized and somewhat unformulated goals, can be so overwhelmingly painful and draining that it’s easy to crack and crumble.
And we’ve definitely had our low points here. But through it all, we’ve kept going. And now, we’re in a place we’ve wanted to call home for six months.
We’re making friends. We’re laughing more. We’re breathing deeply, and drinking it all in.
Koreatown served its purpose. It was — and will always be — our first nest in California.
But West Hollywood is home.
An apple we reached for and grabbed.