The Moment I Knew I Made The Right Choice Moving To San Francisco

It all came down to bagels, weirdly enough.

My girl, Jordyn, brought up a thoughtful point yesterday. How sure are you of your choices? Does anyone know what they're really doing when they pick Plan A over Plans B, C, or Z? 
Moving to San Francisco wasn't the hardest decision. Far from it. Career, culture, community, coffee choices, closeness to Stanford / my favorite place on earth. Everything pointed to SF being the natural next step.
But it didn't have to be. I could've dropped everything and moved abroad, something that's been wiggling its way into my thoughts a little seriously and then a little more seriously. I could've moved back home or to any other city, really. At college graduation, the world is your oyster. You see, New York has always been my postgrad dream. The everlasting energy, the tangible feel of go-getters working towards their dreams, the food deliveries at 2am, the skyscrapers. I lived in NYC last summer for an internship, and it was everything I ever dreamed it to be ... and also not. As amazing as it was, it could've been ten times more so if I had a tribe to share it with. Not just acquaintances and a friend here and there, but a really, really long list of people that would allow me to call one person to come hang on my rooftop tonight and someone else for a weekend adventure and someone else for Thursday night drinks and someone else for coffee and shopping. 

So I decided to move to SF, found an apartment, got really excited about burritos in the Mission and sunny afternoons outside in a park. But still, I wondered if I should be somewhere else, if I had cheated myself out of another incredible path.
Exactly a month ago, I returned to the Bay Area after three months of traveling – and you know what? Three months of loving life on the road, but also missing the Bay dearly as well. Cassandra came with me, to punch in some quality time with our friends, but also because we had tickets to an Idina Menzel concert, who would ever let that go?!
And y'all. That week... That week was so special. Boba runs with the crew, afternoons stopping at our favorite coffee joints, catching 6am Caltrains to go babysit our best 7-year-old friend, dinner at our professor's place, tea at another professor's place, touring Pixar thanks to a bossin' bestie, so much walking, taking absurd photo booth pictures in Japantown, feasting on ramen, belting out Queen Bey at karaoke, deciding spur of the moment to crash on a friend's couch rather than training home at midnight.
And.
Bagels. 

After karaoke-ing into the early, early morning and splitting our group up half-and-half to spend the night at two apartments, I woke up to messages from the other half of our group.
Get up. Food. Meet outside on X street and Y street.
That cross-street was equidistant from the two apartments and so when my half approached from X street, I could see the other group walking up from Y street. We converged on that cross-street, and I swear I couldn't stop smiling. Our whole pack went off to fetch bagels and coffee, and then trudged up a hill in Pac Heights so that we could eat (and talk) with a view. I was filled with such an overwhelming sense of contentedness.
These are folks that I used to discuss wistfully and excitedly with about: wouldn't it be so great if we could all live close to one another like in FRIENDS? Wouldn't it be the cat's meow / cat's pajamas (we had an argument over which of these idioms was correct) if we could support each other through all the trials and tribulations, share in each other's joy over promotions and commiserate over bad dates and squeal over good ones? If we could finagle our ways through this beginning stage of adulthood together and know that we're not so alone?

I understand that it won't be so ideal on the daily. Everyone will get busy, everyone will make new friends, everyone has their own lives to lead. And if I were to be completely honest, I don't need to be here because of a group of friends. I know all of that. But these are people that saw me through so many ups and downs during a transformational, and foundational, time in my life and in many ways, they've become a security blanket.

Right now? Right now, I choose to want to have my blankie.

Off to earn my friends' love back now that I've shared these stickers. Pretty sure they've disowned me, but their affections are easily bribed over with, I don't know, bagels and beverages. (Don't tell.)
What city do you live in? Why did you move there?