LocaLOVE.

Have you ever had one of those bipolar relationships? You know, the ones where you’re equally repulsed and equally turned on by the other?

That’s how I feel about the District. He and I have had an off-and-on, love-hate relationship for the past seven years.

It started out great; everything was exciting and new and nothing he did could let me down. Ahh, those were the days. Not even aching hips from walking on concrete all day or getting take out for every meal could ruin my idyllic fantasy of city life.

The honeymoon lasted more than three years until we had our first breakup.

I met someone else.

I was lured to New York for the summer with the promises of bright lights, new adventures, and … important internships. I immediately fell in love with my new city and moved on. For awhile.

Three months and two Life Moments later, I returned back to the District. The next year, we pretended that we were still right for each other. Both of us had grown and changed, but we weren’t able to recognize that it wasn’t a good fit. I tried doing all my “normal” things – going to my favorite theater, eating at my favorite places, studying for exams under my favorite tree on the mall. He greeted me with soupy summer days followed by beautiful autumnal nights. We were both trying to make it work.

We spent another year hating each other, resenting everything the other did. The hard, concrete sidewalks made me throw my back out and I moved to Arlington only visiting to go to work.

I moved back to New York the next summer where I thought I was fulfilling my every dream — working in the music industry, being broke and happy in Brooklyn, and doing that whole “growing as a person” thing. Until it all came crashing down.

All that time, the District was still there. Waiting for me. While I was gone, the city remained constant. Instead of rejecting the District as an option for the Next Phase of my life, I’d matured. I realized I’d gained the patience to cope with the finickiness of the city.

So, I moved back. One last time.

Last weekend, I officially fell back in love with the city. After weeks of going back and forth because of the weather, my job, or metro dysfunctions, I finally did what I used to do every time I needed to clear my head and get in touch with the city again: I went for a walk.

In 3.5 miles (from Woodley Park, down the bridge into Dupont, and onward to Georgetown), I was able to find the clarity I’d been lacking for awhile and realized that no matter what I do, who I meet, or where I go, the District’s home. How could I turn my back on him now?

Seven years in, I think things between us are only just getting started…