Last night was my last night in NYC, and so I’m going to be very real with y’all: I have never in my life, in all my years on this earth, experienced the kind of love and outpouring of affection that I’ve been feeling after announcing I was leaving New York.
It’s true. Not even when I think back to when I was living in Memphis or Miami or wherever. And that’s not a knock to my family in Memphis or Miami, or any of my friends in those cities, but the truth of the matter is, I never felt such love before I made my decision to leave New York for Los Angeles.
And it’s such that I wonder if I’m making a mistake by moving to LA.
But the thing is, I know I’m not making a mistake. My dream of becoming a real-for-real screenwriter, and to write for TV an the movies, calls me to LA. I know that’s where I need to be. I can’t be anywhere else if I’m going to make that dream a reality. I cannot do what I want to do in NYC, or anywhere else, for that matter — it’s just not gonna happen.
Yet I gotta say, when folks are crying serious tears — folks really boo-hooing over the fact that I’m leaving — it leaves me thinking, “Why? Who am I to cause this sort of reaction?”
But people are straight up telling me how much I’ve affected their lives, how much I mean to them. Yo, that shit is pretty fuckin’ powerful.
It’s a good, albeit surreal feeling to have people say those types of things to you. And it does make me think … Who knows, y’all?
I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?