Everything You Ever Have, You Lose

I should know by now not to worry too much about today's problems; they can be ousted in an instant by tomorrow's problems.

My boyfriend is leaving me.

It's for his work, which softens the blow on my ego, but not my heart. Tech people go to San Francisco to start companies. New York made sense in the beginning, but things change quickly when you're working with technology. I hear that Bloomberg has a "Silicon Alley" initiative--trying to make NYC a desirable place for tech entrepreneurs. Whatever it is, it is apparently not worth missing out on an opportunity to get in with the cool kids in Palo Alto and Mountain View.

And neither am I.

I mean, I'm not saying I should be. Part of what attracted me to this person was his passion, his myopic focus on building a successful company. I've never dated someone with so much drive. And it's not even about money, although I'm sure he will make plenty of that--what motivates him is changing the world.

Tech entrepreneurs are changing the world, for sure. For example, thanks to the tech startups, I have an album coming out this year. I've always had my music, but my Blogspot blog and Facebook account helped me to raise money through Kickstarter, which, due to technological advances in home recording which has lowered the cost of high-quality production, was enough to pay a talented music producer to help put my songs together.

Yes, it's been a spiritual journey. Yes, it was through my yoga practice that I realized my true calling. But, it was technology that allowed me to place the call.

Back to my relationship. We met at a bar in the East Village last November. By April, I had moved into his apartment. In September, we signed a one-year lease on a place in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. As I type this, from said apartment, he is in San Francisco, looking for his next apartment.

We have a good relationship, I think. Or at least, I thought we did. It's loving and sweet and we get along and rarely even bicker. We have good times and have helped each other through a mutually tumultuous year as we both pursued our dreams here in NYC.

The plan was to stay in NYC. But the company investors say, come to San Francisco. So, off he goes.

Mostly, I think I'm in denial. I don't know what the heck I am going to do, and I'm trying to figure it out. But there's part of me that doesn't even care what I do, in this moment, because I'm just so sad about losing my partner, my love. I just heard a 1960s song by the Marvelettes called "Destination Anywhere" in which the singer relays a story of going to the train station, and telling the ticket agent she doesn't care where she's going, because "my baby don't love me no more."

I feel that right now.

The apartment is a mess and I just stare at it. I have to force myself to eat; preparing food seems like too much of a hassle, and I'm not hungry. Yoga, my sanity, seems like too much effort. When I force myself to go, I am weak on my mat.

Sadness is great for the songs. I've already written two songs, inspired by this impending loss.

In the moment, I would rather not have the songs or the sadness. But maybe someday I will appreciate them.

Days turn to nights, the plates in the earth shift without our even seeing, the whole world changes in the blink of an eye. Hold on if you can, or better yet, don't hold on. Let go. Wherever the storm lands you, there will be people to love, and people who love you.

Might as well enjoy the storm.