Its 3am and my mind decides to wake me from a sweet slumber.

I toss and turn desperatley searching; counting sheeps, breathing deep, turning sides. 

All to no avail. 

I've started saying my goodbyes. People say they'll mis me and convice me New York is the greatest city there is. 

I don't argue because I already know. How could I not? I grew up here. 

How foolish I seem to them to be leaving a place full of good food, people, life, love, loss, culture--everything a young soul like me could want. 

But I've become ungrateful. Please forgive me for the words I am about to speak:

New York is Old York and I am jaded. 

Sad to think at 20 I have a been there, done that attitude.

I've seen France and Spain and London but I live in a country with 49 other unique states. 

It is time I do something that scares me. 

No. 

Terrifies me. 

Move away and learn how the southern half live. 

They try to scare me out of it but I'm only driven more towards it.

It is now 4am and my heart races with anxiety and excitement. My stomach growls with the hunger to experience. My mind races with countless possibilites for what my near future holds. 

I tell them New York will always be here. But the freedom of my twenties won't. 

New York is my first love. 

It is the place I realized if I can make it here I can make it anywhere.