I couldn’t bear the thought of returning to my friends and family in Los Angeles like some sort of wounded, fragile puppy in need of comfort. I wanted a new adventure with which to distract myself from the unbearable, inconsolable anguish in my heart. I needed to gather my strength while away from the frenetic pace of L.A. So I headed North.

Seattle, most famous for spawning the Grunge genre, was fun at first…and then quite suddenly, it wasn’t.

After the initial excitement of being in a new place began to wear off, homesickness set in and grew worse daily. Not for a place, but for a memory of what once was and never would be again. I was done hiding from myself, though. When I emerged, where would I want to be?

California. Home. Family, friends, beach, sunshine, sushi, mountains, music, laughter, and yes, even Grunge’s mortal enemy: Vanity. I would want to be surrounded by millions of ambitious people who still dared to dream, as evidenced by their constant strive to achieve the seemingly impossible. I’ve been away long enough.

California…take me back?

I decide to leave Seattle after only three months of living there. It’s not Seattle’s fault – I met some truly beautiful souls while residing in that lovely metropolitan, people whom I won’t soon forget. In addition to craving a change of scenery, I went up there to make music with one specific producer. Some good tunes were brought to life as a result, which is always rewarding. I had my adventure, experienced another way of life…I’m glad I did it.

I throw all of my possessions and clothing into trash bags and stuff them into my surprised car, not giving myself enough time to sell my furniture prior to moving. I leave with little fanfare, immediately united with my impulsive decision and nary more than the guidance of my trusty gut to steer me home. Filled with a strange, uplifting excitement, I begin my journey.

California, here I come.

[Read Part 2: Road Revelations: Pit Stop Etiquette]

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