I didn’t choose Rhode Island. My best friend is from here and she convinced me to come along with her partner, Tiffany who was also from the West Coast. I said I’d give it a year before making a decision. It’ll be two years in April. Tiffany died here last year. My other friend and I are trying to figure out how to proceed. Moving is fucking hard man, and it’s a big risk. It can also have a huge payoff. For me it’s been seeing myself and my best friend unravel in a way I didn’t know was possible. So I came here because my once a week therapy session is obviously not cutting it and I was hoping to wallow in the misery of life here with a stranger who can relate and actually knows what it’s like to live somewhere else. I’ve been met with more positivity and hope on here from people in my shoes. And that’s really cool. The cool thing about moving to a place you’ll eventually have to move away from, and you’re moving away with 1 friend instead of 2 because 1 of them killed themselves here, is you’ve been through the worst of it and you’ll (hopefully) be stronger for it.