Big Developments

It's Spring. That may seem like an obvious observation to some, but the fact that Spring has sprung and Winter has been put back in its ugly cave for another year is a huge deal in my world. This past winter has been the most difficult of seasons for me (if you've heard Anna Nalick's song 2 AM it's much the same thing - "winter just wasn't my season"). I moved far away from everyone I love (including my family and the man who is not only my collaborative partner in all things creative, but someone who helps me believe it's alright to be authentically me), it was an especially grueling winter in New York, I really questioned my decision to take the job I moved here for, then a friend was murdered and everyone I know was thrown into a tailspin. Watching grief take over the lives and stifle the vibrancy of those around me was heartbreaking. The people I knew to be alive and full of spirit were muted into shades of gray. The color was drained out of them and the darkness of death claimed the last bits of light in their eyes. We all spent months simply attempting to function. For me it was easy to toss myself back into the daily routine - my job is hectic and requires focus, which left me with little time during the day to think about Nicole and my friends' pain. For my friends it wasn't that easy.

The winter was hard for so many reasons. I hate that it has affected me in such a profound way. I no longer have a romanticized view of New York. It's gone. It's been stolen. Living here automatically takes some of the fairytale away, but I was able to keep a little bit of that awe I had for the city alive. I worked hard to retain it. I know how important it was to me that I saw the city as the place of my dreams. That's gone now. I hope that someday I can get it back. Someday I might wake up and think of New York in the way that I used to - a little bit of magic, a good deal of harshness, and a whole lot of energy. I hope the day comes when the sight of the skyline with the early evening sun glinting off the glass and steel beasts gives me the kind of shivers it used to. But for now I need to leave.

Leaving isn't only precipitated by the difficulty I'm having with the city. It's been very hard being so far away from the man I feel is as close to the other half of me as anyone I've known. The kind of emptiness I feel when we're not together is the strangest thing I've felt in a long time. It's as if I know I'm totally capable and alright on my own, but I don't want to be on my own. Great things are a little less great without him. Happy times are a little less happy. Sad times are intensely more sad. In the past couple of months I've thought a lot about what we were doing, where we were going, what if anything at all our plan was. What I came up with is that I didn't know where we're headed, I didn't know what we're doing and I didn't feel good about that. What we have together is way too good to just let it sit, let it be victim to the whims of time and geography. Eventually one of us would have to move. It's going to be me. He can't live here right now, he just can't. He did it years ago and now he needs to be in Miami. It's a pretty simple solution, really - he can't be here, I can't be here without him, so I leave. I go to Miami. I'm moving. I'm looking for a job and I'm making plans and I'm looking forward to being there with him more than just about anything I've looked forward to before. He means more to me than anything that's here and we need to give us a chance. We need to be in the same city and the same house moving in the same direction. Who knows what the future will hold for the 2 of us, but we're going to figure it out. We're going to give it a shot and I know that great things are in store for both of us. It's very exciting and very natural at the same time. You'd think I'd be a little nervous about going, but I'm not. I feel a comfort that is quite special.