This is a much more compelling story than the one I tell:
"People would ask how I ended up in Santa Barbara, so I'd tell them how I got cancer when I was 19 and decided that I wanted to live near the ocean before I died."
I never really knew why my brother moved to Santa Barbara. I knew it had nothing to do with me, even though I was living here before he moved. We never saw each other; we never spoke, only yelled, from ages 11-20.
I don't think about it much now, except to remember that eventually, it'll all just be a sentence.