Before I met you, I thought London was the one. Rain and ruins and a sense of being close to the home I didn't choose, the one I always go back to on quiet nights when no one's watching. But then there you were. An ocean away, hiding under the hills and the fog, with your bridges and the stories of tomorrow.
I came to find you on a sunny day, you were colourful and bright, the right kind of party for my willing heart. It was almost as if I didn't deserve you at first. London didn't seem to like the village kids quite as much. With you, I don't need to apologise.
Then there was Canberra, and I loved that place in all of its beauty. There are days when I think of the far away when the whispering of "Immer Wo" comes back. But back there, my core got shaken, and I left pieces of my heart behind. Some doors are better left forever closed, their keys thrown into the wells of memory. And the places that remind us of them slowly fade away.
I came to find you with the storms inside, and you were sunshine. You said, "Hey kid, let's go", and I believed you like no other. You make me feel like I can do things, imagine and create. Again and again. Waking up every day here feels like a great story waiting to happen. I feel safe around you with the unfolding of improbable paths. I feel at home.
Today I went on a long walk and watched invisible walls becoming visible. As we walked together, they came crashing down. Everyone needs a place to remind them who they are. Thanks for being that for me, San Francisco. The solitary and the brave need a place to be too.
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