Dear Bay Area,

You weren’t the faintest blip on my radar three years ago. I knew about the Golden Gate Bridge but that was it. Lombard Street had something to do with that Packers coach. Ghiradelli Square was a place with chocolate in it. Lands End was a clothing line.

All that changed eight months ago.

You’re a city of so many names, things, and people. Apple, Weebly, and Firefox. Montana, Curry, and Bumgarner. Oracle, Metlife, and Alcatraz.

Then there’s the bridges. Stretching out across the Bay in every direction. So tall that massive cargo ships can dip underneath.

There’s always a sprinkling of sail boats out on the water.

It’s a city mixed with the environment without overpowering it. Rows of square houses dip up and down with the hills. Some are shrouded in so much fog you can’t see them–while some bask in sunshine every day.

It’s no coincidence that a city founded on such beautiful surroundings cares so much for the environment. The climate is just as much a part of the city’s soul as anything.

My best friend’s parents told me the fog rises out of Daly City as if every resident is cooking rice at the same time.

I’ve never lived in a massive city before. Going up to twin peaks made me feel so small. I felt like I could see the city, the middle of the country, and even my home way off in Maryland from that lookout.

All those moving lights down below, each one representing a person with their own story, moving towards their own destination in the night.

I think we all have to move away and find a city of our own. Baltimore is my home, but I didn’t find it, I just ended up there because I was born there.

But why am I so fascinated with you, San Francisco? I’ve had this question asked of me so many times. Is it something I can put into words?

Not everyone will love you, but I do because of your beauty and excitement.

There is no city I’ve seen more beautiful than San Francisco. And that’s by a long shot. There’s no hills in Maryland, or oceans five minutes away, or massive feats of engineering towering over you, or the tallest trees you could ever imagine, or pockets of fog so thick you could get lost in them, or roads so steep you’re afraid your car will flip over.

There’s none of that here.

There’s not as much soul here. People from the Bay are proud to be there. They don’t want to leave–and I don’t blame them. You could live there a lifetime and not experience everything it has to offer.

I can’t wait for the day this Maryland boy gets to go back and see you again. I also can’t wait for the day I make you my permanent home. The one that I chose.