“I just hate Los Angeles,” said Yassir. Wrapped in the arms of the man he loved that he valued the monogamy and proudly presented me as his girlfriend to each acquaintance, I felt a concern. The statement felt staff, as if they wanted to say “you” and changed it to “La” at the last moment.
We are both transplants. Pre-pandemic, lived in Hollywood for a couple of years, made the typical person in entertainment move to New York and return to Los Angeles to work at the end of 2023. I arrived in January 2021 and began to refer to the happy ones about two weeks later, although sometimes I kept that fact.
At that time, I apologized a lot in my love for Los Angeles, I was concerned to appear in a certain way to their transplants, my parents' friends who had only seen Santa Monica and any New Yorker with whom I was.
I wanted to dodge all the stereotyped perceptions about the despite identifying with them. I did not want to leave as driven by the image, although I find comfort in a walk through the stores of the American American, where I cover the skirts in the changing rooms and Spritz perfumes in the makeup counters.
Nor did I want them to consider me obsessed with health: I literally buy in Pilates and Performance Sneakers classes. Or be labeled as a work addict: I do not relax easy I often combine my value for my productivity. Or be accused of being a film snob: I will skip a party in favor of a 35 mm screening of a movie that I have already seen.
At the beginning of our courtship, Yassir spoke romantically of New York night diners and the constant events. I felt jealous, as if I were remembering about an ex.
After changing university complaints and the purchase habits of groceries, a text exchange between us turned to his worship for New York and his contempt for the
Instead of skating on the subject or giving your opinion, I sent a text message: “I understand that it has many failures, but I love it. And this is something you should know about me, I am very good to love and discover how to love.”
It was a conclusion that had been spinning for a long time. When I was 27 years old, I still learn who I am and how I go to the world, but I am improving. This was one of those personal truths that after expressing it to another person solidifies their very true, and all in the name of Los Angeles.
He replied: “Huge green flag.” Like my friends, my family and Los Angeles, Yassir benefited from this feature of mine.
I found it incredibly beautiful. My working behavior ceased in the morning I spent. I just wanted to pass my hands through his dark and curly hair and explain the words of the Los Angeles champion, Eve Babitz, for me. But I also admired it. Yassir spoke with cadence and clarity, stating all “definitely” syllables, a word that said quite frequently. And it was definitive about the world, especially angels. As a television writer, the city gave him many more opportunities and money than he once offered me, and he still hated him.
I felt like a child who showed an art project every time I presented it to my favorite places in Los Angeles about eggs and gofres, I would say: “Is this restaurant incredible?” Or make a gesture with my arms at a top of a hill: “This view of the Griffith Observatory is quite spectacular, right?” I said these things as if I were asking: “Am I not incredible?” And “Are you not looking at me next to a spectacular bougainvillea?”
His answers were always cuts. I should have known.
He broke with me the past fall after several months of appointments, citing differences with respect to our perspective of life. He said specifically that I see the world with too much sun. Definitely also
I participated in my usual breakup agenda. I did my Heartbreak Beachwood Canyon problem, walking and crying to the ballad of Amy Winehouse, “Dry tears (original version)”, on the sidewalks lined with threads. I went to my friend's sofas in Highland Park, the happy and palms to cry a little more. And I sat on my own sofa, another “Sex and The City” see him again.
But it was the words of a New York, although fictional, which indicated my romantic path in the future.
Episode 1 of season 5 of “Sex and The City” is titled “Anchors Away”. It is the first of the series in a world after September 11. In a wink to the fifth main character of the program, New York City, Carrie Bradshaw spends the day calculating with her love for a city that often proves her spirit. However, after a possible love interest, New York dismissed, Carrie catches a taxi and reflects: “If … you only get a great love, New York can be mine. And I can't have anyone speaking S, about my boyfriend … Maybe the past is like an anchor that stops us. You may have to release who you would become who you will be.”
With the devastating fires of the Los Angeles County followed shortly after my rupture and the advance of “city as a great love”, I decided to love angels more openly, especially in my life life.
As expected in who/what/where/where of first dates, the question “How do you like it?” It always arises. After Yassir, the men that I have often found shrug in a way of “whatever.” The brunettes, the blondes, the mustache, the shaving clean, the dates of my patio bar do not seem to obtain it, and their answers have alarmed me, their apathy almost as alarming as absolute hatred.
How could a person feel indifferent towards such a dynamic, so capable, so beautiful and so funny place in their forms? A place with such a lush story that would take a lifetime to learn how we got here? Perhaps my similarities with the do not end with the stereotypes of the city.
Men who do not understand angels will never understand me, and therefore, they are not worthy of my love dysfer.
That is quite good. I have a boyfriend anyway.
This author is an independent culture and writer of lifestyle. She has written for the Times, the foot of a rabbit, the little white lies and others publications. She proudly lives in Los Angeles, and Franklin Avenue is her favorite street. She also runs a subsack: babydancer.substack.com.
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.
