Sitting on a plane from Budapest to Los Angeles, a trip with which he was familiar, felt different this time. I was visualizing my new starting work in Sunny Manhattan Beach, thinking about incorporation and first impressions. But above all, I was excited to meet my new colleagues and make the most of my three -week stay in California.
By whim, I sent a message to an old Hungarian friend who had not seen in 10 years. We had lost the contact completely, and I was not even sure to answer. But he did.
I landed in Los Angeles on a brilliant Monday afternoon at the end of September, full of curiosity and optimism. Our office was just a few steps from the ocean, and when I saw my first look at the Pacific on the way to work, I thought: Is this really my life now?
I had no idea how much more I would change.
That weekend, my friend Gabor and I planned a small road trip to Long Beach. He picked me up from my hotel, and we spent the day catching up, making panoramic stops along the coast.
Green sticks left me speechless. I envy anyone who see it for the first time. But it was Long Beach and Crystal Cove who really stole the show.
On the way back, Gabor casually mentioned his friend Adam, a Hungarian partner who lived in Marina del Rey and had a boat. “We could go to a small cruise tomorrow,” he said. I had time. So sure. Why not?
Sunday arrived. I still remember seeing Adam from afar. He was tall, tan, with shorts and flip flops, and breaking jokes before even greeting. Oh, dear God, I thought. He thinks it's fun.
Spoiler alert: That was the day I met my future husband.
Adam began the engines and we left. It was playful, effortlessly, great, a little great for my liking. But the sun shone, and the ocean breeze was soft. I had a great job in my pocket and was sailing through the Pacific as I escaped from autumn in Europe. I couldn't have imported less anything else.
Suddenly, Adam turned to me and said: “Do you want to drive?”
“That?” I laughed. Did you really talk? I just met! Why would you deliver the control of this … see? Even so, I took the opportunity.
With his guide, I drove a yacht for the first time, an unexpectedly empowering moment.
I will remember that moment forever. That small and genuine gesture, offering control, meant a lot to me.
Here is the thing: I've always fought with men. I was previously married, I dated all kinds of complicated types and had been single for eight years. Most of them tried to control myself, made me feel that it was too enough or not enough, I never completely accepted the strong, brave, curious, ambitious and adventurous woman that I am. So I wasn't looking for.
But being in the presence of Adam felt different. It was respectful, natural, effortlessly. No games.
Still I was going in two weeks. There is no reason to think too much.
Before realizing, we exchange numbers. Adam continued to spread. He made an effort, something he was not used to. We had dinner, we sent (yes, including washing the clothes, romantic, I know), and when Gabor was rescued with weekend plans, Adam proposed something bold: “Do you like road trips? Let's explore California a bit.”
“Absolutely,” I replied without hesitation. (What was I thinking?)
I did not know that travel and road trips in particular were my love language, nature too.
It was another surprising sign that we might have more in common than being Hungarians. Planned everything: the itinerary, the stops, the accommodation. My contribution? A good playlist and a full bag. For once, I was not the one who orchestra everything. He felt incredible to be treated by a capable man. And I was impressed, it was something I hadn't felt in a long time.
We go to the road. Santa Barbara first, then Solvang for Danish cakes and strong coffee (what a jewel!), Then he continued to Sequoia. I was delighted by the old trees and the mystical forest. The atmosphere among us? Electric. I exposed a half kiss, but never arrived. Well, it doesn't matter.
While we convince me that we never become something, we take the panoramic route back to Los Angeles, openly speaking about our pass and dreams. All the time, a quiet voice inside me whispered: I like the version of me by his side.
Something changed. Suddenly, I felt a sting of sadness, knowing that my last week in California was about to start. We said we would contact. But there are no expectations.
Then something unexpected happened: a week that was supposed to be full of meetings began to clarify. One by one, things were canceled, and suddenly I had time. And I knew exactly who I wanted to spend it. I sent a text message to Adam.
In his usual casual way, he replied: “Do you want to go to a cruise at sunset?” Yes. Always yes.
That night was pure magic. The sea, the light, the feeling of being completely at ease.
Then, we had dinner in a small Thai place on Venice Beach. We were only. No distractions.
While I drank Wonton's soup under the sky of California, I realized that I was falling in love. I saw the same in his eyes.
The next night, it took me to the beach in the second. He packed a blanket, grapes, cheese and salty cookies. We saw the sunset and I was wrapped in his arms. His kisses warmed me more than the sun could. (I know, cheesy but true).
Friday arrived, my last full day. He planned everything: a trip to the getty laugh, hand in hand, views of the city. For the first time, I saw Los Angeles not only as a place to visit but as a place to stay. We had dinner in Venice and walk through the dock. It was perfect.
The next morning, it took me to Los Angeles International Airport.
“When will you return?” asked.
“I don't know,” I whispered, with my eyes full of tears.
But here is the thing: sometimes life surprises you when you least expect it.
I returned. He proposed. And I said the easiest of my life.
I found the love of my life at 42, in the most unrealistic way, place and time. This month, we celebrate our first anniversary, living happily in Marina del Rey.
From that first cruise, we have had many more, each different, but one thing never changes: our mutual love. If you do not believe in true love or Los Angeles, you may not have been in the
This city gave me more than a new job, a new view or a new chapter. He gave it to me. And now, he's at home. Happily forever.
The author lives in Marina del Rey. He works on people's strategy and leadership development and moved to Los Angeles from Budapest last year.
Los Angeles Affairs Chronices The search for romantic love in all its glorious expressions in the Los Angeles area, and we want to listen to their real history. We pay $ 400 for a published essay. Email [email protected]. You can find presentation guidelines here. You can find past columns here.
