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"Ticketing: Thank you. Your opera tickets have been booked.

Me: So just show up with my vaccination card and California ID? Do you need me to sign anything in blood or something? Because this means so much to me I wouldn't mind."

To say I was ecstatic about the live in-person performance of LA opera was an understatement. I was shaking with joy when I read the announcement email. The world was suddenly right again. The customer service was laughing with glee upon hearing my excitement. I almost cried when I got the e-tickets in my inbox.

This is it. This is home.

The bright light and the enchanting music. The glistening chandeliers and the soft carpet. The beautiful dress and the sophisticated feel. The mesmerizing play and colorful costume.

This is where I belong. Among arts and music. Under the night lights and the liveliness of the city. With people who are as excited with life as I am. A place where I can be myself.

And I tried. For the love of God I tried. I tried to be so good. So diligent. The obedient little wife. The perfect partner. 

He came home to a clean house, to a well made food. The bed is always warm. Our precious baby puppy all well behave and properly taken care of. Kisses and prepared lunch before he went to work. Cuddles and snuggles available 24/7.

I want nothing in return but his love. It was enough. A brunch now and then at the local restaurants, it was enough. Night stroll to the park just the two of us, it was enough. Watching Star Wars series in Disney+, it was enough.

It was the perfect white picket fence dream. When he wanted the house in the suburb, I was on board. This new life mattered more to me. After a year of lockdown, this new life felt more real to me than anything else. I wanted this white picket fence life. It was supposed to be my happily ever after.

Yet it ended. The house was bought but I didn't move in. I had to stand my ground on an important subject and that cost me everything. Him. Our puppy. The suburban house. My happily ever after. 

I went insane. I was depressed. I can't eat. I can't stop crying. I keep talking about him on and on and on. I keep purchasing random items in a desperate attempt to make myself feel I am worth it. To make myself feel I am desirable. To make me feel something.

Even the crazy amount of hugs and love that I received from my friends were not enough to snapped me back to reality. I lost my 'home', see. He was my 'home'. He was my happily ever after. What else do I have left? Why does life even matter anymore?

And then LA Opera resumes their in-person performance. And I realized, I did not lose everything.

The Stepford wife was gone, along with her white picket fence dream. But the city girl survives. The confident, flirtatious siren who inhale excitement like oxygen. The patron of art and worshipper of life. The lover of the city and the mistress of the night.

Soon she will be home again. Hello Los Angeles. I miss you so much.