Twelve years ago, I moved from Boston to New York and everything changed. When I arrived, I didn’t know what to do with myself or even who I was, and at the age of 23, it was exactly the kick in the ass that I needed. My relationship with the city has become more complicated in recent years, but even so, I have tears in my eyes when I think about leaving this place I’ve loved calling home.

Today, during our final hours here, I focus on all the wonderful, strange, and sometimes terrifying (in a good way) parts of my long-time love affair with New York City.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll focus on how sad I am to be leaving amazing people behind as we sail away. I’ll cry when I think about how life goes on and moves faster as we get older and how our friends and families will get together to cook and share great meals without us, and how we’ll miss out on the creative and meaningful things that they’re sure to do. We won’t be there to laugh together, meet new partners for the first time, watch children grow up and meet new babies until they are toddlers. We’ll hear about the big moments via email and Facebook, and we’ll talk about what’s happening back home as if we saw it on the news.

None of those thoughts today. Today is for the good stuff – far too much to mention here.