Nine years ago today, driving my little car behind a big old truck, both full of my shit (literally just as well as figuratively, I might add), coming across the state line into New Jersey, having made an incredibly spontaneous decision to move my small town cookies to the Big Apple, looking forward to an adventure and having absolutely no idea what I was getting myself into, I asked myself that very same question.
So now I Know.
In a few minutes I'm heading out to Newark Airport to pick up my dad, and tomorrow we'll rent another big old truck, load my shit back up (less literal this time -- not much closet space around here and I have a weird nomadic tendency to move every 16 days -- and a lot more figurative, since I'm older and wiser and therefore carrying around even more useless info than I was then), and reverse routes.
I will have seemingly endless time to ruminate on this, and I'm sure you'll have to hear all about it. The decision was incredibly complicated, overwhelmingly over-thought, and in the end quite simple. It's time to go home.
For a little while. (I still don't really have my commitment issues under control. I'm working on it. Not really.) The long and short of it: I've been away from my family for almost 15 years. I have learned exactly how hard I'm willing to fight to live in this place that is, truly, not for the feint of heart, and I've learned exactly how capable I am of fighting for what I want. Not always getting it, but knowing that I've given it my all.
I don't know how long I'll end up sticking around, where I'll end up next, or what I'll get out of my time there, but I'm really looking forward to it.
That being said... I. Will. Always. Love. You. New. York. God, I love this town. I love my friends here. Ferociously. I have loved acting, the thrill of a good audition, learning the craft from the most exceptional of teachers, challenging myself to be utterly and entirely vulnerable, and the feeling of being right where I'm supposed to be whenever I'm on set. I love the people. Seriously. They're brisk and efficient and colorful and have no patience for bullshit, until you really need them and then they are full of love and generosity and a kindness that I am proud to have been here to experience one horrible, horrible fall day. I love that you can't walk down a street here without hearing live music, ten different languages, and people who are simply in awe of the very place that you call home. I love Central Park and the tiny boutique where I shopped on 9th Avenue and walking the length of Bedford Street and Corner Bistro burgers and City Bistro brunches and the meshing of opulence and poverty at every intersection. I love Shake Shack and the view from Hoboken's pier and cutting through Union Square on my way to the bookstore. I love, truly madly deeply, love New York City.
There is hope here, and I love hopeful places.
On to the next. Stories to follow, my friends.
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2 comments:
The long and the short of it is: Welcome back, we're happy to have you.
This is great, Jess. Very well-written. You actually made a better case for staying here than for leaving. And I'm not even going to make a comment about your luscious, juicy buns.
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