Yes, if you didn’t get the clue from my last reblog, or if you don’t know me personally: I’m moving to New York City. It’s a few weeks out, and I’m basically selling all of my possessions, aside from my library (and clothes). I’m looking for work befitting my experience and desires, but I’ll take pretty muchanything.
Originally, I didn’t want to go. I was bratty and angry and afraid. It doesn’t really feel like my kind of place. But it’s a cultural hub, and there’s some amazing stuff going on there, in between Law & Order scenes. So while I’m unsure of pretty much everything from where we’ll be living, to how either of us will be making rent, let alone every other bill. Literally nothing is set in stone beyond Adrian’s internship.
The one thing I am sure of, is that I’ll be happy because I’ll be making my own life. Sometimes it’ll fuckin’ hurt, sometimes I’ll cry, but it will be mine. And I’ll be with Adrian. So what could be more enriching than starting a life with someone you love in a city that seems to overflow with history and culture?