“The Chapter in Your Life Entitled San Francisco”
Originally published at lianhua.nu. Please leave any comments there.
This past Monday, I boarded a plane in Burbank, CA and deplaned in Oakland, CA. A short and exceptionally easy public-transit ride later, I was standing in the middle of downtown San Francisco, surrounded by gorgeous, stern and serene buildings.
I walked a few blocks south, in the Monday morning sunshine, with a cool, crisp sea breeze ruffling my hair every few minutes. Seagulls circled overhead, spouting their cacophonous little songs (which always remind me both of Sanibel and of Finding Nemo). My nerves - slightly agitated by the mystery of new surroundings and even more by the prospect of everything that could happen that day - stopped my lips from curling into a full smile, but, behind my sunglasses, my eyes were bright.
I passed by a rushing fountain that reminded me of a waterfall, under a freeway overpass that seemed eerily quiet despite connecting to the Bay Bridge in the middle of rush hour, and continued down the street until, looking to my right, I saw a familiar sight - I had only seen it before on Google Maps, but I knew it already - a gorgeous little tree-spotted park between two rows of ancient buildings of brick, stone and giant glass windows.
Inside the office, the first thing I noticed was a bicycle - a completely foreign object in pretty much any Los Angeles building - and I sized it up to mine (which is sitting in my living room collecting dust, to be honest). This was a street bike. A commuter bike. An honest-to-goodness city bike.
I don’t even know if you can really call that building an “office.” Someone told me it used to be a washing machine manufacturing warehouse, or something like that. Now, bright green, orange and blue paint striped the walls, practically mile-high skylights poured sunlight from above and a few desks were laid haphazardly around couches and bookshelves. This was no office.
Or at least, no office like I’d ever worked in.
A few hours later, I hopped back on that public transit train, full of smiles. Nervousness completely gone. All it took was a few hours in an amazing place with amazing people (and surely it didn’t hurt to have a little bit of amazing food thrown in there, of course). My world had been turned upside down - in a very good way - and as I was leaving I was already planning how I could possibly get back as soon as possible.
The Socialcast Office (swiped from the corporate site *evil laugh*)
The company is Socialcast.
And I’m pretty positive I’m going to move up to San Francisco and work for them.
I make it seem like a really easy decision, though. That is so far from the truth that it’s not even funny. Derek and I have spent the past week staying up discussing, talking, arguing, crying, fretting, wondering, what-iffing, researching, planning, celebrating until 2am just about every night.
Overall, though there have been times when I’ve felt so disconnected from him in the past week, as I sit here and write this today I feel like our relationship is so freaking solid right now that not even a natural disaster of epic ginormous proportions could pull us apart. We are a freaking rock.
And I love him so much for that. For all of this.
I’ve told him several times, usually through tears, that if he doesn’t think it’s worth it, he doesn’t have to come with me. I’ve told him I’m pretty sure this is something I have to do now. Right now. Before I have a house. Before I have a dog. Before I have kids and a 401k and all those scary adult things. This is one of those things that I will regret for years if I pass it up. I’ve already passed up one opportunity because I was scared (let’s not discuss it). I’m not doing it again. I have to do this for me. I have to be selfish, for once, and do what is right for me, for my career, for my life, for my happiness.
And he takes my hand, or touches my face, or stares deep into my eyes, and he says, “Baby, I know.”
Two years ago, right around this time of year, even, Derek and I drove up together to San Francisco. It was our first trip together, and it was wonderful. I felt so connected to him and so safe even in the most questionable neighborhoods.
If I didn’t know it before we left LA, I knew when we got to San Francisco that I loved him.
There are still a lot of “what ifs” that need to be addressed and plans that need to be made and worries that need to be let go of.
But one thing is steady, constant, entirely certain: even if I already know it before we leave LA, I know for sure when we get to San Francisco that I’ll love him more than ever before.
And so begins the next chapter…
Watch for a recreation of this photo. Coming soon.