Wednesday, March 11, 2015

need some fog in my life

I love San Francisco.
Every time I cross the Bay Bridge, my heart starts pounding. With every second, it grows faster and louder. Thu-thump. The-dump. "San Franciscoooo!" I yell at the top of my lungs as I stick my head out the window.
Lately, though, my primal reaction has been held back for the fear of rear-ending the poor lad in front of me, or worse, multiple lads all around. But when I'm not driving (and if there's no passengers speaking at the moment), I instinctively return to holla-ing at the city. SF makes me come alive. 
The other day, it dawned on me. What if... what if my love for this place is conditional?  During my latest excursions in SF, the sun wouldn't stop kissing the city - smothering it with a big wet (or should I say dry) one, and forbidding any clouds to roll in. Needless to say, I was miserable. Disappointed, distraught, distressed, disgruntled... disillusioned, among other depressing D-words. Could it be that I only like San Francisco when it's foggy?
I'm scared of falling out of love with a city.




No comments:

Post a Comment