concrete jungle where dreams are made of

Note: I wrote this on my last night in NYC with the intention of putting it up here - the face that it's taken me a month to post this should give you an idea of how busy I've been. A full explanation will be coming shortly; all sorts of new fun stories, people!

I moved to New York just over eleven years ago. I vividly remember my first night unpacking all of my things, hooking up my computer to a phone jack by stringing a telephone cord across a hallway, being afraid to open my windows, and not believing that I was finally living here.

Tonight is my last night in New York. I don't know how much my feelings about this place have changed; I just know that I'm changed. And all that enthusiasm I had for subways and traffic and crowds is now focused on sky and trees and grills and dogs and space.

Much like that night, I know that I am on the precipice of an extraordinary adventure; an undiscovered country lies ahead of me. But I am so much of a better person for the life that I've lived here, the experiences I've had, the things I've seen, the people I've met...oh, the people. So many that have touched my life in so many different ways. I am grateful for them all.

Sometimes I feel as if I should be sad, mostly when I say goodbye to someone I care deeply about, like my sister-in-law, or the Flying Squirrel, or my brother - the only one who has been here every step of the way with me. But the goodbyes come, and my eyes stay dry, because in my heart of hearts I know that this is right, that I have to leave, to have new adventures and experiences. It's my time. I have to seize it.

I am excited to be going forth, but I would be remiss if I didn't acknowledge the imprint this city had on me. Has. For better or worse, New York City has made me who I am, and I am proud to carry that forth. I always will be.