These pictures are from my last month in San Francisco. I gotta say, even though yesterday I bought a bed from Ikea moved into my new apartment in Brooklyn, I still haven’t come to terms with the fact I’m actually living here. My home is San Francisco, I was born and raised in the Bay, and I don’t think my heart will ever leave it. All I can think about is seeing the faces of my friends who have been with me for the past five years, who have stood with me through the hardest shit I’ve ever been through, and I can’t help but feel that I am abandoning them. I think about meeting my friend Jessie for the first time at her old house on 24th and Portrero, eating friendship (ending) cupcakes, and watching Degrassi till 5 in the morning, I think about driving into Hunters Point for the first time and listening to Kanye with Isabella, watching Alberto walk around and take pictures of the view, I picture Jeff dancing around on top of our nasty white couch in the villas in his honey pot costume on Halloween, and I remember belting out Usher lyrics with Norris on our last drive back from Fresno together. Every memory is so vividly happy it becomes painful, and as I return to them over and over everyday here, I can’t help but break down. I am trying to find happiness here in New York, I love people here too, I just can’t bring myself to say goodbye to my life in SF. I am at this point where I really don’t know what I am doing, and it scares me that the rest of my life is what I make it, and being away from the people I love right now is making everything so much harder.
But I need to try here. I can do it…