My heart always breaks a little when I leave. This city has such a special place in my heart – the people, the vibe, the architecture, the walkability, the craziness, all my friends, the close-knit communities, and the fact that no matter how weird you are – you can always find someone who makes you look pretty normal and boring.

I did a lot of growth in this city. A lot of searching. A lot of discovery. A lot of exploration – of myself and my inner workings and of the world. Of who I am, of what I want, of what I am capable of.

Someone told me once I shouldn’t hold on too much to old memories of San Francisco – that I will never get back what I once had there. They were right about the principle, but not as how it applies to me, at the moment – I never expect this city to be the same. I never expect it to go back to what it was the last time I was here. Every time is different, every time is new. I am not going back to find the old me – I am going back to be reminded of the new me, and to keep growing, and to keep reaching, and to keep exploring. Whenever I am in this city, I am reminded that life is a journey – a crazy, unpredictable, exciting journey that never stays the same for more than a fleeting moment.

I just spent a few minutes standing entirely still, right on the corner of Market & Powell. Not the prettiest spot, but none the less the heart of the city. I stood there, listening to a street musician playing sexy christmas songs (anything is sexy when you play the sax!), just taking in the hustle and bustle of the street, looking at all the random, awesome people passing by. The streetcars. The street vendors. The hippies, the homeless, the business people and the tourists. And the jesus guy ever present on the corner. I felt such a sense of ease and comfort and completeness.

I said my goodbyes and walked down the stairs to BART. My heart always breaks a little when I leave – but it’s okay. That’s part of life, too. I’ll be back.

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