Our LA stories were connected in various ways on our first date.
We dined at Bestia in the Arts District, half a point from where we were staying. She’s from the San Gabriel Valley and I’m from South LA. During our post-dinner stroll, we found ourselves at the foot of the 6th Street Viaduct, which neither of us had been to before. As we crossed the bridge, behind the glittering skyline of the city center, we joked and talked about the future.
“You should move with me to DC,” she said.
Along with our flirty flirtations, I say of course. The truth is I don’t see myself leaving Los Angeles. She and I grew up in Los Angeles, and we both want to settle down here when the time comes. However, she thinks being able to experience being somewhere different can offer growth opportunities.
Our twist of fate on a December night on the bridge made us eager to experience the rest of Los Angeles together. I am a passionate Angeleno eager to show it off, and she brought a fresh perspective with her excellent questioning and observational skills. The city’s diverse communities allow us to see different sides of each other.
On our second date, I took her to my favorite bookstore, Skylight Books in Los Feliz, where we shared our favorite books. We took an impromptu Christmas morning walk in Culver City, where we got to know each other’s families. And she took me to one of her favorite restaurants, Nep Cafe in Fountain Valley, where she offered me Vietnamese coffee.
“Sequoia MLK weekend?!” she playfully suggested a month after we met. I know she’s joking, but I’m excited at the possibility of being alone with her for two or three days. It’s also a great opportunity to get to know each other better. So we planned our weekend trip.
Unusually rainy winters kept us out of Sequoia, so we opted for a charming Airstream camper in Ventura. Despite the rain, we ate dinner, saved up, and explored the town’s Main Street. At the end of that week, she told me she was worried that she was having too much fun. She was afraid that there would be little joy for us.
Little did I know that she was right. A few weeks later in February, when we were out in downtown LA to celebrate my recent promotion, she said that she had found credible listings for a position in Washington, DC and is seriously considering it.
We’ve only known each other for two months. Who am I to stop her from doing what she really wants to do? I told her I would support her decision to leave LA. Two weeks later, she committed to moving.
We’re not sure if a long distance relationship can work, but we wanted to see where our LA story would take us. We agreed to see each other until she left and then we would part. Our LA collection has a page limit.
Despite the fact that she was about to move, the experiences we continued to have did not feel limited.
I had to explore more of the San Gabriel Valley, which I knew very little about. She gave me a much-needed smile on mile 18 of the Los Angeles Marathon, and we did the most SoCal thing: We went to Coachella. With the theme song “Ojitos Lindos” by Bad Bunny and Bomba Estéreo, we weren’t afraid to get closer and fully experience each other.
Our relationship gradually formed the LA love story I had dreamed of. Not because it’s set in Los Angeles but because it couldn’t have happened anywhere else. Our immigrant roots – she is from Vietnam and my parents are from Mexico – and our conversations while driving from place to place are shaped by Los Angeles, the city that both We both love it.
Although I hate the bondage in our relationship, I know it’s teaching me an important lesson. I am always in a hurry and set ambitious goals and work quickly to accomplish them. She taught me to slow down, live in the present, and take the time to make moments come true. That’s probably why I value every 10th Highway drive to visit her in Rosemead – so much so that I feel my eyes glimmer with childish excitement.
During her last week in LA with me, we went to a Dodgers game (my first!), ate Sonoratown tacos and had a drink in the tallest building in the city. The whole scene reminded me of the good times we had together, but part of me sighed: “It was Los Angeles. There is still a lot of work to be done.”
She asked me to drive her to Los Angeles International Airport. I love movie moments, so the thought of a LAX breakup makes me a little emotional. As I helped her with the luggage check, I couldn’t help but think how ridiculous it was for me to help her stay away from me. I was overcome with emotions when we hugged for the last time.
The tearful ride back to my car was tough. Our LA routine is over. Did I make a mistake by letting her go? Despite the embarrassment after the breakup, I was reminded that she left me with something precious: a broader perspective of Los Angeles.
After all, the day after that February conversation, we had lunch in Rosemead, wandered in Lacy Park, and stumbled across a Lunar New Year festival in San Gabriel. In the end, I’m happy because I know I would never have gone to those places or lived those experiences without her. We created the best moments in the best setting.
That’s why I always have that look every time I drive down to 10th gear.
The author is an urban planner living in South Los Angeles. He on Twitter: @roberto_lunajr
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