Place used to define us not only physically—as a Southerner or a New Yorker, as an immigrant or an explorer—but also emotionally. To leave the place where you were born was to disconnect from far more than geography. It meant taking on the exhilarating challenge of forming a new identity.

I didn’t return texts and I didn’t confirm plans. I forgot about birthdays and I stopped returning calls. I didn’t know how to show up for them: the Nora they had known before was gone, and I didn’t like this version of me enough to show her to anyone who had known and loved those better versions. I assumed that their lives were perfectly fine with

So it’s still New York. People can’t give up on it. It’s what economists used to call the tyranny of sunk costs: once you’ve put so much time and money into a project, it gets hard to just eat your losses and walk. You are forced by the structure of the situation to throw good money after bad, grow obsessed, double down, escalate your commitment, a