Well, there's been another development in this little story of mine, a development that might actually add a little more intrigue to it all. I've decided that it may actually be in my best interest to up and move to Chicago. That being said, I leave in exactly one week.
Considering that I left my job, am single, 24, and would have to begin again and rebuild here in Miami, why not try and do the same in a big new city? When I was a kid, I always thought it would be wonderful if I upped and moved to a big city and lived that big city kind of life. Well, here's my chance to do just that, and this may actually be the last chance I have. While Miami is a unique city all on it's own, it's not necessarily what I'm looking for. I never intended to spend the rest of my life here.
I will say, it's a bit frightening. I literally have a guitar, a few bags of clothes, a place to crash for a bit, and about $700. This is probably the biggest risk I've ever taken in my life, but I sincerely feel that the only way I'll fail is through a lack of effort. If I really want it to work, if I want to be there, to do this, then it's all on me. That doesn't make it any less frightening. I know two people in the entirety of Chicago. What if I don't find a job before I run out of money? What if no one likes me? What if my thin self freezes over like or blows away? What if, what if, what if! A horribly tumultuous series of thoughts that only leads to self-doubt and chain smoking.
I have dreams too, though, and those are kind of exciting. But I think I'll keep those to myself for now. I'd rather not jinx them.
I've been procrastinating a bit lately. This move isn't as fantastical as one might think. It's not simply a pack a bag and go kind of deal. Pack my apartment, sell my things, move everything out, get rid of my car, have a goodbye shindig (gonna be awesome!)Sort out what I feel I might need immediately and what can be shipped to me later, once I'm grounded and settled. Fit all the said things I'll need into the lightest, least amount of bags possible (fingers crossed for two!) What I've slowly begun to realize is that I will indeed miss more people and things, places and circumstances, than I had originally thought. While I knew that there were people I'd miss, it's more than that. Happy Hour at Bougie's with the boys, Cervezas, impromptu gatherings in my convenient little studio apartment. My apartment. There are a tremendous amount of memories in that apartment, more so than in any apartment I have ever lived in. Fights, laughs, tears, smiles, and the usual dichotomy of a life lived alone. The girls, my mates, the late night/early morning binges, the pretzelled legs and long embraces with particulars (and abstractions). The nostalgia will be there, as it always has, and I relish it and it's sometimes comforting, sometimes frightening tendencies. We are what we've done, who we've acquainted, and I will never forget, whether that's a good thing or not.
One week until another place, another bed, another time zone! A new method of being, a clean slate, a fresh start. Anonymity like none which I have encountered thus far in my strange life. Excited and scared, happy and sad, desperate and fulfilled. Let's see what happens.
Here's to hoping for the best.
