Now that I've decided to leave New York, I find myself feeling a sudden pang of sadness. I always knew that I would leave one day, but it always felt remote somehow, like something I didn't really have to worry about. Now, the decision is upon me, and I had to make a final choice. Perhaps, I was mentally delaying the decision, because I know that once I leave, I may never return. I lived my life this entire year as though it would be my last, and now it seems, it may be my last year in New York. There are still a great many things that I must leave left undone, but also, a great many things accomplished, for which I'm proud. My relationship with New York has always been a complex one, and it seems as though it's now over. But I am not one to dwell on looking back. I must look forward. I have lived in New York longer than any other city or location in my life, at least the longest uninterrupted stretch. It was a good run, but it must come to an end. As sad as it is to say, I never felt completely at home in New York. I never found any closeness with its residents. I never fully shared its attitude. New York has a rough shell, and it toughens you up. You must learn to brush off so much callousness and rudeness that you fall in danger of losing your own humanity. For my part, I tried to keep my innocence, what little there is left. But alas, life has a way of staining all of our souls with time. I will not be walking away without any scars and blemishes.