Three weeks in

I've been in New York for three weeks and I still don't know what I'm doing here.

My ex offered me work. Said there's a consulting firm that would love to hire someone with my background. Said I could make good money and build a life here.

I said I'd think about it.

What I'm thinking is that I could stay here and slowly build a version of my life that doesn't include pretending to be in love with a woman named Bonnie.

But then what? I just replace her with another fiction?

The problem isn't Rome. The problem isn't the people in Rome.

The problem is me. The fundamental cowardice at my core.

And that travels with you. You can't outrun yourself.