I finally left New York, after all the talk. The talk that went on inside and outside of my head. It’s been a month, and a few days. I sold my apartment one month ago today, I spent a week with my parents, I drove over fifteen hundred miles, to Austin. To Texas. To a new life. Is that exciting? I don’t know anybody here, but I’ve always been alone so this should be easy. But alone at twenty-two is different then thirty-four, because I found friends that became family, and then I left them, just like we leave family. Can you ever go home again? Where is home?
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