If I Can Make It There

If you told the 12-year-old me that one day I'd be living and writing in NYC, I'd probably give you the sassy pre-teen look and say, "well, duh!!!"

So why do I wake up every morning and think to myself, "Is this really happening?"

I have a crazy love for this city. There's really no where in the world that can compare to this overcrowded smoosh of an island. Let's keep it real here. If you're a Manhattanite, it's likely you live in an overpriced box. A walkup in a nice neighborhood is a steal. No one does their own laundry, or walk their own dogs, or take care of their own kids. Everyone gets their groceries delivered. And if you're a true Manhattanite, you never really venture out of your neighborhood. And yet, it's likely that in the three block radius you walk each day, you'll never see the same person twice. The competition is fierce. Growth is endless. Failure is probable. But if not, the payoff is huge.

I know, it sounds insane. But secretly I love it.

I say secretly because I'm afraid to love it out loud, and grow too attached to my life here. Mainly because Superman doesn't see himself living in the city, and after more than five years of never living in the same place, something someone's gotta give.

Our original intent when we moved here was that both of us would move together. But once I got here, Superman never showed. He decided to stay behind. So for a year I've been going at it alone. Now I have this inherent fear that after this deployment, he'll likely scoot out of the city again. And again I'll be left with the same decision to make on my own.

Secretly I know it would break my heart to leave somewhere I worked to hard to be. 

I've been exhausted thinking about it, and feeling like I have to do everything possible now because I'll feel forced to walk away.

But I'll tell you now, I'm not leaving. I've still got that 12-year-old in me to satisfy. I've still got so much left to acom...

*doorbell*

Oh! That's my groceries!