Music for your listening pleasure as you read this post:
Mike and I love San Diego. Love love. San Diego has it all: beautiful weather, beautiful beaches, beautiful temple, Luigi’s, Julia’s in-laws, and other stuff.
We love San Diego. In fact, we might even consider marrying it if we weren’t already in a committed relationship with the Valley.
San Diego is our secret lover that the neighbor’s whisper about behind our backs. Oh sure, we’ve got history and a beautiful relationship with AZ, the stuff that keeps us together, but everyone’s got their own turf infidelities, and if that’s something you balk at, we’ll just call it a “confusion” or “weakness.” (“Honey, it was a moment of weakness! She was flashing her BEACHES at me! How could I resist?!)
San Diego is the cute, younger kind of lover we could never really take seriously, but, even so, feel ourselves longing for if we don’t sneak away for a visit every couple months. In those times, we convince her of our love and fill her with false hopes, and then too soon drive away, back to the warm, familiar bed waiting.
Now the Valley, of course, knows all about this arrangement, but could never admit to herself that she can’t hold our short attention (I have needs woman!). She thought that a baby would finally help to hold us down and monopolize our affections (I think that’s the start of every Maury or Jerry Springer episode), and that did work for a bit, but really, what can you expect with such a track record.
But we are back now, and always will come back, because our AZ love is true.
(the same may not be true if you were to ever bring up Denver to Mike. Now SHE is a whole different story.)