As with everything having to do with me, there are many reasons.

I just got tired. I knew all the things I couldn't change that I desperately wanted to. I'm not able to re-locate, in region or occupation, right away, anyway. It's never really possible for me to not be alone unless someone steps up to the plate and makes himself known. My college debts and financial malarkey has doomed me, for now, to a level of placated, Bohemian poverty. My self-esteem wasn't going to ascend from the floor without a puff of air.

I am not a kid anymore. I'm 24 now, way out of college, way away from family and friends, so all there is now is me. Every day, each night, whether I like it or not. And if I didn't like it, I was the only one who could change things. It is wrong to expect anyone else to do it, to change me. If I want to be any happier in my future, well, the present is now. My parents are healthy as cows at 62, so I have good chance, by genetics and sometimes by dumb luck, at having at least as many years on this planet, and damn if I'm going to give up the brass ring just because I'm unhappy with the hand I was dealt so far.

I met this guy. I know, cheesiest reason known. But, I am happy to say (or convince myself) that it is not his presence or promises that have motivated me. He is simply one of those people that just by having them in your life, you start looking deeper into yourself. It is not so much that he is showing me something I didn't already see about things I could do anything about in my own life, but that he led me back to myself, back to the mirror so I could really look at myself and make some concrete decisions. He holds no illusions for me, no matter how much I think I want to be eluded from the truth. He could have been some chick, really; it was not so much his gender. It was him. A friend, a confidant, someone who listened but didn't let me control the conversation. Someone who wasn't afraid to ask questions both about himself and myself. If anything, he has given me hope that there really are guys like him that exist. Guys with hearts, souls, and brains. He was surely not the only reason or even the biggest reason. But he was the only reason, besides myself, that had a face. I know he will read this, so Shmuel, thanks, for being there, in so many ways. It's been real.

It feels good to feel good. I'm no saint, nor could I ever aspire to or want to be perfect. I love my flaws, even some of my worst mistakes. It's a small comfort in a world of big discouragements, but I'll take what I can. The hope that my current actions will have semi-permanent effects, that my future will have a better chance of being good. Sometimes that's the only reason you need to work on yourself as the organism you are.

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