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San Diego is my home. Not NYC. Connor is the man I want to be with. Not Greyson.
These are two truths that took me a long time to figure out, but I finally have. I took care of one part of this by leaving Greyson and now I'm in the car on the way back from the airport to my house in San Diego. I'm not quite sure what to expect when I get there. I don't know if Connor will be there, or if he moved out, or if he'll even talk to me. I'm praying he's there because all I need is for him to listen to me for five minutes. Five minutes is all I need to prove to him that I am in love with him and want to spend the rest of my life with him.
I hate myself for taking this long to realize this, but it's better late than never.
I glance down at my phone and sigh, knowing what I have to do now. I type Rose's name into the phone and press the call button. I talked to Rose once I got out of my coma, but it was before I made my decision to come back to San Diego. I never gave her my decision about the program, which she gracefully extended an offer for.
It's hard. I won't lie. Giving up art after neglecting it for so long and finally getting it back. Painting, looking at other people's works, analyzing what's going on in the minds of others, seeing people's souls on a canvas -- I missed it. It's what I want to be doing with my life, but not in New York. I want to be with Connor more. Although, I don't want anyone to think I'm trading my passion for Connor because I've decided I'm going to start pursuing art opportunities here in San Diego. Believing that New York is the only place that I can pursue art is flawed which is partly why I left.
But, sometimes when you love someone so much, you have to make sacrifices. He was willing to make sacrifices for me to stay in New York, and he's made endless sacrifices throughout our relationship. It's my turn to prove to him that I love him. Not to mention that, looking out the window of this car now, San Diego is my home. It's not New York. It was fun while it lasted, but this is where I'm supposed to be.
"Hi darling, I've been expecting a call from you," Rose says when she answers. Even through the phone, her voice is comforting and it's like I can feel her smile. She's someone I'm going to miss dearly.
"Hi Rose, I've been meaning to call you sooner, but I've had a busy past few days."
"Johanna, I've told you a thousand times. Don't apologize for anything. Be unapologetic in your every move," She pokes at me. "But really, don't get too worked up about it. After all, you've been on a flight for almost seven hours. You must be exhausted, plus you have better things to worry about."
I lean my head back into the seat. I am exhausted. But hold on-how does she know that? I never told her I was leaving. "Rose, I-"
"Don't even worry. I could tell from the minute I heard your voice that you went back to California," She tells me. "I'm not mad at you, in case you were wondering." I was wondering.
"I don't want you to think I'm choosing him over art, but I love him and I want to be with him. New York was amazing and I can't even fathom repaying you for the amazing opportunity you gave me."
