I used to be able to openly state my intentions to move back to SF to all my East Coast friends. I no longer have the luxury of mentioning any of these plans without heavy interrogation or firm opposition. It’s endearing, it really fucking is, but at this point we’re avoiding the inevitable.

I came to NY for a specific purpose, to heal. I’ve never said that out loud. I’ve given bullshit excuses for every single “Why did you move to New York?” conversation I’ve had, because “I was going through a divorce, and I needed to distance myself” is way too heavy of an answer. I rarely share my past to those I meet because I don’t need it defining me. You would never know I’ve been through some shit, and I like it that way. Bottom line, I needed to fix myself and I needed to do it alone in NYC.

I’m all patched up now. I have a bionic heart.

During a late night commute home from a movie night in Astoria, Bridget brought up this particular subject. She asked me if I still planned on moving back home soon. I responded candidly, because I’m always real with her. She replied in kindness:

“I think that’s the right decision. I think that’s where your heart is.”

Jackpot. “…where your heart is.”

I am making half-assed decisions these days because I know my time here is ending as soon as snow falls (bet yo’ ass I’m not trying to stay for another winter, fuck that). I need to find a new job, but I’m hesitant to seek one out due to timing. I considered following Molly (the best room mate in the world) to a new living situation when she moved out, but I knew I would just leave her in the end. And nothing get's half-assed as much as my dating efforts...

I need to make some changes and it’s a good time for another (huge) transition. Make no mistake, I’m saddened at the thought of leaving NY, I've made amazing connections here. However, I already know it’s almost time for a new adventure.

I’m all about my adventures.