When I first moved to New York City, I told myself that I could always leave if things didn’t work out. I’d be all in, until I wasn’t. I found a similar all-or-nothing quality to life there: the sad history of people’s failed dreams alongside all the obvious success stories and diehards who wondered what your problem was. There was no middle path, no gray area, just winners and losers. I spent a lot of time sorting out my thoughts about this.
“You’re too much in your head,” my ex, Laura, told me. When I asked what she meant, she said, “Think about it.”
