i laughed when you were leaving so you'd remember me that way

i think when you suggest a sort of outlandish idea to people--y'know, like, "maybe i'll move to australia for no discernible reason"--it's a bit like an improbable party trick. everyone's a little drunk, and laughs along with the idea, the "wow, what if" of it all, but no one actually expects you to do it. you'll chicken out or flub it up somehow, and with a "nice try" and a pat on the back, you're sent back to the kitchen for another drink.

i don't want to belabor the point. i get it, you get it. it's not the most daring or death-defying thing anyone's ever done. i'm certainly not moving to south africa to set up a community center for the poor, uneducated, and hiv-positive, like someone else i know. that's pretty fucking amazing. i'm moving to "america with a couple drinks in her." i'm moving to the "quirky friend" of western civilization's clique of nations. i don't actually know what i'm doing there, sure, and who knows--in a few months, i could be reporting from my very own burgeoning community center in the outback, toughening up my hands and my heart--but i say this with as much compassion as possible: i seriously doubt it.

i mean, yeah, maybe i'll train for a marathon that raises money for aids research, but dear postsecret: i'm doing it to get in better shape.

i wouldn't be jerking off in the mirror like this ("wow, look at this incredible thing i'm doing!") if it wasn't for the questions. not mine, of course, but the big questions that have come in response to this decision i've made. i thought i'd have more questions myself. i thought i'd have doubts. and for brief flashes, during quiet, unexpected moments of the day (pulling on my socks, tying up the garbage, that time at the water fountain), i do sometimes wonder how the hell i'm going to pull this off. but for the most part, and this is my stock answer to everyone, i'm just going to figure it out as i go.

i don't take other people's doubts or skepticism personally. i know it's not a reflection of me. i think it's generally understood--and duly noted--that it takes balls just to decide to do this. you don't lose those balls over the pacific somewhere. i know i can do this, you know i can do this. well. i know i can do this.

jay and i had dinner last weekend, and i was almost caught off-guard when he said, "i feel like you're going to stay like six months, and then leave and come back. move to, like, boston, or something."

"what makes you say that?" i said, having to make the solid resolution not to get defensive. but jay knows how i work, as he pointedly mentioned, "i know, now you'll stay forever, because you hate being told what to do," so unabashedly, buttons were pushed.

"well," he said, "i just feel like it's going to be kind of...i don't know, it's a hard situation to make a life out of." he expressed the same concern everyone has and is being reasonable to consider: how are you really going to support yourself down there? y'know, essentially asking me to give something more than my stock answer.

what did i say?

"i don't know, i'm just going to figure it out as i go."

i was talking about it with laura today, because she lives in boston and because i know she and jay talked about this before he talked about it with me. she of course asked, "well, do you like boston?" and told me she'd be happy to have me come visit.

i essentially thanked her but expressed total bafflement as to why i'd actually leave australia, and at that, move to boston in the dead of winter.

"oh no, don't move here in the winter," she said. "that'd be ridiculous."

we volleyed back and forth about it for a bit, as i resisted crying out (as much as one can on g-chat), "the point is i'm not going to quit on australia!" she finally called it, though, when she asked me, "you're feeling a bit unsupported right now, huh?"

which is sort of an immature emotional response for me, i think. but she made another good point in saying, "you're doing what so many people want to do so bad, or joke about doing but never do."

it's kind of humbling. and i tossed the idea around later, walking home from the subway. i guess i was thinking about people in my neighborhood--the woman who works at the laundromat, the quartet always playing checkers at the fold-out table on the sidewalk, all the young moms--and if they were given the opportunity to up and leave their lives, would they do it. granted, the great american story is that so many of these people did up and leave their lives, and are here now living a better life. new york may be a total snake pit to me, but to plenty of people, it's pretty much the best thing since sliced fucking whole wheat.

and i guess the larger point is that i'm not responsible for their stories. i'm not responsible for the coworker who told me, "i've always wanted to do that, but with a husband and three kids, i'm pretty much tied down here." or for the old acquaintance from high school who said, "i'm not brave enough to do that." or for every person who's said, "i've always wanted to see australia" but never will.

and the grass is always greener. to be in a relationship with a man that actually loves you, like my coworker. to work seven days a week to save up for one of the most prestigious business schools in the country, like the high school friend. to insist on making a life in new york, despite the odds, despite the costs, despite the challenges, and to actually be doing a damn good job of it, like so many people here i know. to face your present life, every day, good, bad, or cruelly indifferent, and not have a rabbit hole to jump down and disappear into, off to another land, another life, a fresh clean start where everyone thinks you're something special for hauling your shit ten thousand miles away from home just for fuck's sake.

that's pretty incredible to me.

what am i doing? i don't know what i'm doing. so when everyone asks the questions--those unanswerable questions that i keep revisiting, that i keep questioning, that i keep walking around and peering into and poking at but never actually fulfilling with a response--i have to say, "i'm just going to figure it out as i go." what other choice do i have?

"i assume this is a really personal 'journey' of sorts," laura said today. "not many other people will get it."

i don't blame them. i don't really get it either. and truth be told: i'm scared. i'm scared of staying and i'm scared of going. it's a bit like doing a high dive. i'm intimidated by how far i am from the water, but i'm just as scared being this far up above the ground. i can either stay here in paralyzing fear, or i can let go, take the leap, and dive head first into life.