The worst breakup was the one that didn’t happen

It was a Sunday afternoon, and I was having a Bumble BFF date with three girls at a wine bar in East Village (if you don’t know what Bumble BFF is, get with the times). One of the girls posed a question to the group: “What was the worst breakup you ever had?” We went around the group, and everyone had their horror stories. Then, my turn came, and I said awkwardly, that the worst breakups I’d had were probably worse for the other person, because I was a terrible breaker upper and broke up with people by text most…

The Great American Road Adventure: Arizona

On a Friday, Michael and I packed up and left San Francisco to fly to Arizona. The apartment was getting progressively emptier, as we had sold two pieces of furniture, in preparation for the move back to New York, and it felt strangely surreal to leave the apartment with less furniture. I was undoubtedly glad to leave San Francisco, but it felt surreal leaving that day, knowing that I wouldn’t be back for a long time. Michael and I had planned for a couple months’ to do a big road trip across America, ending in New York, where we would…

Leaving San Francisco

The first month in San Francisco was rough. It was difficult for me to adjust to the city, and to begin living with someone I’d only been dating for a few months. Since we only planned to be in the city for about 2 months, I didn’t bother looking for work. Instead, I picked up writing the novel again, engaged in all my leisure activities, and started volunteering at a food service for homeless citizens. Upon a critical self-evaluation, I realized what my problem was, in moving overseas to change myself for the better. I was still looking to an…

Life in San Francisco

So, shit happened in New York, and I moved to San Francisco, where I never really wanted to be. The incident that occurred in New York left me feeling troubled over my life decisions and judgment, but I had my best friend in New York with me to help me (mostly) forget that uncomfortable fact. The day after she left New York, my boyfriend and I packed up all my belongings from my Brooklyn apartment, bound for San Francisco. In a number of months in the US, I had quickly gotten good at writing goodbye notes on pretty paper, and…

One night in Boston

Boston was not a city I had a strong urge to visit, nevertheless, I ended up there for one night in June, spontaneously and unexpectedly. My then-boyfriend had meetings there, and suggested I come, despite that I’d have to see the sights on my own. He described the city  as “small and quaint”, with not much to boast for, except good seafood, which was enough to sell me on visiting. On a Wednesday morning, I was scheduled to take an Amtrak train from 34th Street Penn Station, to Boston South Station. The return trip from New York to Boston on…

The end of my New York life

After nearly three and a half months in New York, a fiasco occurred in my personal life, so ridiculous it could have formed the basis for a plot in a Woody Allen movie. And the worst thing was, both myself and all my friends had seen all the warning signs. I’d been heavily cautioned otherwise, but as I was wont to do, I threw caution to the wind, and did as I pleased. The sudden turn of events left me mortified and traumatized. Consequently, I decided to pack up and leave New York briefly, and run away to San Francisco…

Life in New York: Three months

I had been in New York three months and I was failing at life. After some deep and serious self-reflection, I had decided that my short experiment with polyamory came from the wrong place- rather than a desire to be open and honest with all my partners, I wanted to have my cake, and eat it, too. I realized I was not cut out for juggling multiple relationships, and that I was using polyamory as a blanket to engage in my desires, without considering the ethical repercussions of it. While I should have ceased this behavior, I didn’t. I was being…