I had dinner with a friend last night. When I told her of my plans to leave New York this fall, she said something very interesting:
"I never got the sense that you ever really liked living here."
And you know what? I think she's right! When I look back on my time here, I recognize that the first couple years I was miserable, and then at some point after that I sort of hit my stride and got used to it, made friends, etc. And now I'm just sort of... done.
But where was the part when I loved living here?
I don't think it ever happened!
There are definitely specific things about New York that I love, that excite me, that inspire me. I certainly don't regret having lived here, or the experiences I've had. But overall, it has been a rocky relationship. Like a guy that you put up with because he's fun, but you know he's not the love of your life. You learn a few thing about yourself, and move on, with the hunch that neither of you will be very heartbroken when it's over.
Which just underlines the fact that my real hesitancy about leaving is based on the fear of change... and really not much else.