INTRO

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New York City is full of people that always make you feel like you're not enough. There will always be someone prettier, richer, or more successful than you. I've had people in my life that made me feel special, others made me feel enough--that is until we had to break things off but, I guess we're all looking for that person that makes us feel both special and enough, and if you find them you'd have to be fuckin' crazy to let them go.

Then again how do you even find someone like that? Dating apps or in person? It's not like being gay makes it any easier. That cuts out at least seventy-five percent of guys I see. Then I also subtract a percentage of guys who may be racist and not like brown boys like me. Of course that goes into guys who don't like feminine men, who may have really opposite views on politics, human rights, and overall life ambition. Does all that make me picky or just really self-aware? I know what I like, and I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing. I don't waste my time and I don't waste others' time. With all this said, that does mean many heartbreaks.

Time after time we all experience heartbreaks because they come in many other forms than romantic. Your partner, family, friends, society, and anyone really can break your heart. With all these losses most of us are expected to pick back up and keep going. Most people do, others don't. I'm 'others'. I have a hard time moving forward onto something new, but that doesn't mean I linger or try to get back together. Never that. I just take a while with opening myself back up. I think many can relate to that, but not many can relate when I say I'm pathologically insecure.

I don't love myself, and that's something many can't confidently say. I can however confidently say that I do care about myself. Even Though self-love is a part about caring for oneself, It feels like I'm still trying to figure out what makes me love myself at twenty-five years old. It feels like everyone is miles ahead of me in the confidence game and I'm still trying to love my sixteen-year-old self.

I guess we should cut ourselves some slack. We tend to be our own worst critics, but I've done well for myself also. I have a New York Times bestseller and that has allowed me to write full time. I have surrounded myself with really great friends and have been fortunate enough to help my family out as well. I am fighting for my next best seller but I'm positive my work will sell--at least that's what my manager keeps telling me.

Why are we led to think that our twenties are going to be the most exciting time in our lives? For the most part, it is. It's fun being able to go down to your favorite bar with your friends on the weekends. You have the freedom to come and go as you please. It's thrilling being out in the city at three am having some cheap but amazing Mexican food from your favorite spot. Then at the end of the night, you could go home to your cute apartment with your friends and sleep the liquor off. Honestly, constantly being surrounded by your chosen family is the best and most fulfilling feeling I've experienced. I got very lucky and I know that's not everyone's reality. My friends hold me together, they know that but I don't think they realize how much they keep me tethered.

"Sai!" Gina yelled over the music trying to grab my attention away from the bar's tv. "The train is gonna be here in ten minutes, we gotta get going."

"I'll just close the tab and meet you guys outside." I waved the bartender over. "Hey Grant, we're gonna head out."

"Say less." He turned to the computer and printed my receipt. "Are you guys bar jumping or heading home?" He handed me the paper and a pen.

"Home for sure." My eyes drunkenly blinked and I sighed away leaving a nice tip for our favorite bartender. "Thanks for the drink, Grant." I quickly finished the little amount left of my whiskey and headed out towards the door.

I slipped on my jacket and stepped outside. Summer was coming to an end and the September winds started to pick up. Autumn in New York was unlike anywhere else, there was something comforting--romantic about it. I think everyone that lives here can agree, it instills this feeling of hopeless romance for the upcoming winter holidays. I however was only looking to reach home as fast as possible. I gave Bryan, the bouncer a hug goodbye and headed towards my two friends who were standing in the corner having a smoke.

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