*This post is pulled from one of my several blogs scattering around the Internet.*
Early in June, my view of the future went as far as June 30th, 2013 – the day my lease ended.
Cruising through campus just to overhear conversations about my friends’ perfect careers became a boring routine during my last days as a college student. I was proud and happy to be friend with such amazingly talented people; but if I could look inside my body, all of my internal organs must have looked like a melting pot of mixed emotions.
Future became a blurry dot that eyes couldn’t really see.
Oregon and I happily adopted each other for the past five years, but it was time to move on. Alain de Botton wrote that a house was a guardian of identity, a physical and psychological sanctuary of a person. In my case, Oregon was the guardian that shaped my transitioning years from a teenager to a young adult. The state was big enough to nurture a part of my youth, but it was still too small to contain a wild soul’s ambition.
Because at 23, I still have a wish to change the world.
Around third week of June, good news came along when I got accepted to Griffin Farley’s Beautiful Minds organized by Bartle Bogle Hegarty New York and my partner in crime accepted a job offer at an architectural firm in New York. It was a sign that a move across the country would be necessary. A move to New York City, the beautiful concrete jungle to be exact.
Trusting my guts would always be the right thing to do.
And my guts told me to be one of those young people flocking into New York City to jumpstart a career. To be young and broke and enjoy the poor life. After a week and a half saying goodbye to friends, packing, cleaning, and throwing away everything in my apartment, I was on my way.
The two of us didn’t choose this city. It sort of chose us (Or at least, we like to think so).
As the Amtrak bus drove away, I said, “See you later,” to Oregon as avoidance to a bittersweet goodbye. My initial plans fell apart. Yet, as we always say in chaotic moments, everything will be just fine. Not to give each of us false hope but to give us enough courage to sail through these first turbulent chapters of adulthood.