Dear Los Angeles,

I should have written this months ago, but I think the fact that it took me this long says something about how strongly I felt about you and how compelled I was to reflect. As in, I feel strongly that you—sprawling, suffocating, and shallowly pleasing mostly because of Instagram-able gentrification—are not the right place for me. Though I have found a few gems scattered across the city?region?blob?, they are not nearly sufficient to counteract the whole unsavory experience of being in LA.

Dear New York,

I fucking love you.

I understand why you have such a reputation now. I get why you’re the subject of so many dreams. You got me.

To say that 2017 was a year of immense growth would be a bit of a strange statement. That would imply that I didn’t grow and change as much or enough during all the other years of my life, and I don’t think that’s true. So in that sense, 2017 was just another year.