All right, already. I've made up my mind. And damn, bitch, does it feel good.

Oh, my goodness. I'm really going to have to start writing here regularly again, and I mean for real this time because I have a million thoughts that I keep talking about to myself and I'd really like to put them down in tangible form. You see, this blog has been kind of a sporadic road-movie-in-progress. What I have to talk about forms a continuous narrative thread with what's come before. In book terms this isn't a new chapter beginning, it's a new part, I have a feeling, and hopefully a happy, uplifting one. A long, dark winter is in the process of melting away in new sunshine, watering the ground for the inevitable flowers.

Maybe I'd better explain. My adventure in New Jersey is coming to an end. When my lease is up at the end of November, I'm planning to pack my things and make one more one-way trip, this time in the opposite direction--back to Ohio, back to the same house I departed seven years ago.

I think it's a somewhat different guy making the return trip, a rather changed man, older, definitely wiser about the world, certainly battle-scarred but toughened up in the process, and most importantly imbued with a new humility and appreciation for what was left behind. I've had to cast off a lot of expectations and old self-imposed standards which had become boat anchors hanging from my shoulders. At a certain point you have to put aside what you've kept insisting is what you want your situation to be, look around at what your situation actually is, and take new bearings without fear or shame. In my case I've realized:

1) I'm never going to live and/or work in New York. That was probably an unattainable pipe dream to begin with. New Jersey is vaguely close but definitely no cigar, and is maybe 80% as insanely expensive to live in.

2) I've largely lost interest in pursuing a graphic design career. It's just not really what I want to do anymore, whether or not the fickle NYC job market would consider a talented, experienced, but decidedly unhip 41-year-old overweight barista a "desirable" candidate anyway.

3) I've mostly failed to form a viable social network or social life of my own in New Jersey, outside of my work mates and my second of two romantic relationships.

4) In spite of some interesting local institutions and things, for someone of my temperament and interests New Jersey has turned out to be a cultural vacuum. No local arts scene, no local music scene, etc. etc. Hoboken and NYC don't count as local. Great pizza doesn't quite make up for it.

5) In spite of the many wonderful people I've met, and who I hope will remain friends for life, I've never been able to shake the overall impression that I live in an alien, hardscrabble, inequitable, often hostile and uncaring environment.

However:

6) Once I (well, we) were finally able to escape from our horrible living arrangement at the end of 2013, I slowly came to realize that it was just that. As of now, I've lived on my own for about a year and a half, paying more every month than my share of the rent at the old place, and I haven't gone broke or paid a bill late even once. I've even managed to save up some emergency money. I can do something right after all.

7) Speaking of the old place, I know it's horrible to say but the best thing that ever happened to me since I've been in New Jersey was my previous landlord passing away. Oh, the stress and the anxiety caused by that wretched man. My current landlords are dead opposite, an absolute pleasure to deal with, friendly, professional, non-intrusive, and most importantly sane. And the rent is much more reasonable.

8) I am satisfied that my former partner is doing well in her new surroundings; she has her own nice apartment now and is in a committed relationship. I don't worry about her anymore, I think she will do fine. I'm proud of her.

9) Knowing that, and looking at the shortcomings I mentioned, it then just took me a little swift self-kick in the ass to just come out, damn it, and proclaim that which, in my heart, I have desperately wanted to do all along, because:

10) Everything that I'm missing in New Jersey, I have back in Ohio. Family (most important by a country mile), friends (a close second), professional ties, culture, places to go, things to do, familiar streets and neighborhoods, open space--all of it. Maybe not nearly on the scale of New York, but you know, New York isn't the only hip city in the country. See 1) also.

Columbus, on the other hand, is home. Even good ol' Patterson Ave. with its obnoxious keg-partying college kids has 100 times more vitality than where I'm at now. And if I want to, I can use the money I'm no longer spending on rent to buy a drum kit from Music Go Round, set it up in my living room, and drown them out by bashing away on it at 3 am. I may be officially middle-aged now, but this GenXer can still cause some trouble. I can't wait to do battle with some crazy millennial snots. Bring it on, mofos!

I want to make one thing clear, though. I have rationalized my stubborn resistance to moving back in terms of not wanting to give up on my self-imposed mission. I'd convinced myself that returning to Columbus before I was ready would amount to defeat. But I am not giving up. I have not lost at any fucking thing. You know what defeat would have been? Willfully, insistently, staying mired in the middle of this bog, unable to move in any direction, simply because that bog happened to be within 20 miles of the quote-unquote Greatest City In The World and I have some insane, obsessive-compulsive "thing" to prove by doing so. "Just a little longer...if I can only get myself to bla-bla-bla..." Feh. Getting up the courage to change course and move in any direction is a slam-dunk victory for me. The goalposts have moved, only this time I'm the one doing the moving. That feels damn good.

I'll have more to say later, I'm tapped out for now. The saga continues.