You know when you make a gesture? One that is supposed to make it clear that you are self-aware enough to acknowledge your short comings? The result should be a small serving of humble pie, or a simple "I get it, it's ok". That's not so much the result my gesture earned. I've been served, instead, with an apology from the very person who should be just sick of dealing with my moody crap. I declare shenanigans on that kind of nonsense. If someone won't even let me be wrong in the very rare moments that happens, how is that good?
Well, I don't know if it's good or not, but it's pretty sweet.
To clarify, after being so mysterious, I'm just trying to figure out my next steps. There are plenty of reasons for me to pick up and move from here. It's been more and more difficult to work on my art, and I know that is because I live in one of the most expensive areas on the planet. If I move from here, I can much more easily make art and teach yoga and do what makes me happy. I could be near my sister and my beloved nieces, and watch them grow at a less than fast forward speed. That's what happens when you only see little kids every few months. It's like you're watching them with the remote control stuck on fast forward, and I don't want to be aunt fast forward. I want them to be able to ride their little bikes over to my house and play. I want to see baby teeth fall out and kiss skinned knees, and eventually make little cousins for them to play with, and babysit! See, I'm no fool. Waiting for friends and family to have kids first means built-in babysitters.
I am fortunate enough to be with a man who is not only willing, but anxious, to pick up his whole existence and make the move with me. He would be willing to move his hunky self here, but if I'm not doing what brings me joy, that doesn't make much sense. The only part of me who wants that is the part of me who sets up impossible scenarios in which my relationship will suffocate from my own misery, because see? I told you it wouldn't work! No man is capable of dealing with my particular brand of eccentricity! Luckily, that part of me has become quite tiny, and doesn't really get a say in real life decisions anymore.
The reasons not to go are not as easy to articulate. When I think of leaving here, it just makes me sad. Though I've never been the kind of girl who envisions my future down to great detail, I have always thought that when I did decide to do the whole family thing, I would do it near nyc. I would take my kids to the planetarium and the Museum of Natural History, and MoMa, and well...you get the picture. I was exposed to all of that from a young age, and I think it's important. That won't happen if I move down south. That kind of culture just doesn't exist on that scale there.
My dad still lives fairly close to me, and it would be hard to move away from him. That isn't a huge concern, since he's planning on retiring somewhere down in that area eventually, but I was raised 98% by my dad, so it's still a hurdle. I'd also be moving closer to my mom, which, you would think would be a good thing, but my mom, she's a bit crazy, so sadly, that's not a big incentive.
It comes down to weighing the pros and the cons, and I realize that the pros have a huge advantage in list form. The cons, they have a bit of heft to them, though, and they have the added advantage of being on the same side of my brain that thinks change is stupid and should just go away and leave me alone already. That part of my brain is obviously about 14 years old.
I know that the adult self will win out in the end, and the rest will have to go along for the ride. The ride right now seems like a pretty steep drop, though, so I have some butterflies in my stomach. I will drown them with lots of coffee and common sense and come out just fine, I'm sure. Right?
