A Dear John Letter, Only Not


Dear California,


I used to want to live there. I used to want to bask in your sunlight and drink the sweet, sweet nectar of your oranges. Oh wait, that might have been Florida. Anyway. I used to want to walk along your sandy beaches and dream not of California Girls, but of California BOYS. I used to want to rollerblade along Venice Beach, even though I didn't (and still don't) know how to rollerblade and would probably end up breaking atleast one bone, thus requiring a trip to the local hospital. I used to want to go to Disneyland, Universal Studios Hollywood, and Sea World, even though my mother said Disneyland was the devil's playground. I wanted to live in Palo Alto (ok, this may be due in part to that is where "Felicity" hailed from, and what do you mean she was a fictional character on a tv show??). In high school I applied to several California universities even though I knew I would never actually attend them. I simply wanted to hold an envelope in my hand with one of your lovely zip codes on it, to see that "CA" return address and know that should I want you to, you would welcome me with open arms. I covetted your 'Golden State'. (Why do I feel like breaking out into song right about now, particularly Madonna's "This Used to Be My Playground"?)


Alas, my feelings have changed. I no longer covet you. Now you give me no choice but to mock you. Oh California, why did you have to go and change? I was really hoping that things could work out between us. You had such potential. I would say "it's not you, it's me", but there's one problem with that. It's you.


Don't worry, I still want to drink the sweet, sweet nectar of your oranges. Maybe we can be friends with benefits?


Fondly,
-Your Ex