I’ve been staring at this photo of our old apartment in Brooklyn, taken two years ago today, when we closed the door for the last time and made our way to Providence. Our first year here was hard, but we felt pretty confident we had made the right move. After the way our second year came to a close, I’m not so sure anymore. I’ve been missing New York hard lately, and while I know we had to leave there for a lot of reasons, my heart has been heavy. I feel like it was all a huge mistake.
The scale of this city is something that appealed to us, but in recent weeks Providence has felt almost oppressively small. There’s so much about the city that we still love, but my commute is wearing me down, and I feel like we’ve outgrown our space. We’ve been talking a lot about our next steps, and I’ve pretty much decided that since I pulled the trigger last time, Mike gets to choose where we land this time around. I don’t know when it will happen or where we’ll end up, but I think it’s pretty clear that this isn’t the home we had hoped it would be.