LA, in all honesty

LA,

I've realized what the problem was with saying goodbye to you in that other letter. It's that my summer wasn't marked by my being in California. It was more about that feeling you get halfway down a roller-coaster when you turn your head to check the top and see if you left your stomach there.

I left my stomach in Nashville and was flung down west for three months. LA, you're probably better than I remember you. I simply never found a feeling there. I looked, under and over. And the closest I got was the ocean. Not the beach, but the freezing cold water itself. I liked being tossed around in the green and knowing that it only gets colder and deeper the farther out you go.

Mostly though, in California I missed feeling American. I missed the unproduction of it all. I missed the faces that no one knows, faces that don't care about becoming important. I missed going out to a hot hanging lake and knowing that only one person could find me.  I missed the trips I didn't even have, and lived mostly in Nashville with a tall boy and beautiful girl.

Although I was in LA, I was otherwise occupied.

Sincerely now,
Brittany