I’ve moved a lot in my 30-something years on this planet – about 18 times so far. Each time it breaks my heart a little. Some places have been disastrous, some with their fair share of annoying neighbors, others lovely and peaceful…but no matter the situation each one has been “home” for the length of time I’ve lived there.
This past weekend the husband and I moved from our little apartment on the west side of Los Angeles into Hollywood. This has been the only place we’ve known as home for our 2 year duration as Angelenos and it was filled with so many memories. Good friends, funny neighbor stories (like the aspiring Bollywood singer next door who would unknowingly entertain us daily), theme parties, game nights….but most importantly we changed as people in that apartment. So much growth and clarity came about while we were there, not because of the place itself, but I tend to associate where I live with the events in my life and these were significant ones.
The decision to leave was right and our new neighborhood is amazing, but I shed a little tear when we cleared out our westside abode and shut the door for the last time. I will always remember it with a smile as our jumping off point into L.A. life.