Turns out, New York was Mr. Right now, and not Mr. Right.
After almost exactly a year to the day I moved to this beautiful, chaotic, overcrowded, diverse and wonderful city, I’m returning to California.
New York and I had an inspired romance. It was hot and heavy. We broke up. We fought and cried. We got back together. We had dinners and walks in Central Park where the city wooed me back in and there was even a kind of makeup sex — inspired by the smell of spring and the turning leaves in fall.
But in the end, I have to return to my true love — the people in my life who love me and I found I can’t live without.
In a week, I return to California, Los Angeles specifically. I will plant myself in that overcrowded city of beautiful people near the sea. People who hike, and bike, and can’t get enough of the outdoors.
The loves of my life, my 86-year-old father, my dear son, my treasured friends, and in a turn of incredible great fortune, my work, They’re all there waiting for me.
I will miss my colleagues and friends in NYC so much. A raunchy bunch, funny and warm. They welcomed me in and made me a part of their family.
What I learned in one year was more than I could have imagined — about myself and news, and I’m 100 percent better for having been here. My heart aches a bit about leaving.
I’m taking some of the East Coast back with me in many ways. It’s hard to leave. New York is alluring unlike any other place. It’s raw and confrontational, and breathtakingly beautiful. It’s loud, extreme, fast and real, but in the end, there’s no place like home.
The future is always uncertain. I’m choosing to be near to my loves rather than far away from them.
A tough choice, but a very happy one.
Sorry New York, you’re amazing. I hope we can stay friends.
