Thank you all for your kind comments and support!

Okay, here goes....

After my ex-wife and I split up in 2001, I fulfilled a life-long dream by moving to New York City. I was so filled with hope that I'd have a great life there, meet new people, make new friends and one day get into another (and healthier) relationship. The first 2-3 years were very enjoyable. I simply LOVED living in Manhattan and appreciated all that it had to offer. But I screwed everything up. I began to ignore my then-shrink's suggestions to nurture myself and take advantage of my new life (which I did at first). But then all my progress stopped:

- I fell into a painkiller addiction that I shoulda caught much earlier.
- I didn't do nearly enough to meet people; instead, I went to bars alone on Friday or Saturday nights with the false hope of meeting new friends and perhaps a new girlfriend.
- I stopped riding my bike around town (which I initially loved) because I began to feel so lonely; I shoulda focused instead on how healthy it was for me.
- I made terrible choices with my career; eventually maxing out all my credit cards to pay the rent and destroying my credit.
- Instead of taking advantage of the all the opportunities I had to meet friends or women, I chatted online with various people from across the country - all the while bemoaning the fact that I was lonely and not meeting anyone. One woman even began to stalk me online. I shoulda be been out and about taking advantage of the city every chance I could.

By 2007, I was forced to leave my extremely affordable legal sublet because I was flat-broke. For the past 4 years, I've been living at home with my older brother and invalid mother. My regrets and depression have stood in the way of me having a steady job. This is a bedroom community I live in now and I relate to no one here (that's not meant to sound snobby; I'm surrounded by families and feel I have nothing in common). Even though I made very few friends in NYC, I miss the local guy at the deli or my doormen or my neighbor I used to chat with or one of my friendly local bartenders. The only good things I've done here in NJ is to finally beat my addiction and provide good care for my cat until he passed away 2 months ago.

I miss NYC terribly. Never in my life have I ever felt so comfortable living somewhere. But I think what I miss more are the things that I didn't do. I coulda had a very good life, but I failed so miserably and completely. People told me that moving back home would be devastating and a huge setback for me and they were right. I shoulda, coulda done more to save my lifestyle and stay in the city. I had a great therapist at the time and if I had only heeded his advice, I'd probably still be living there. But now, my credit is shot and I'm broke and unemployed. I've convinced myself that I can never get back there, that I blew a golden opportunity. Yet there's nowhere else I'd rather live.

Like I said, I wish I could free myself of these painful regrets. Missing my NYC lifestyle is one thing. But the daily self-torture over my missteps is quite another.