“Today is my first day and my last day,” I said on Tuesday in an unwavering voice with bright optimism and slight melancholy.

As with most journeys, there is an end. A neon sign that lights up with the words “You have reached your destination.” Sometimes, it comes up unexpectedly. Other times, it just arrives as anticipated.

On Tuesday, I had my last day at Palm. I also had arrived at my decision to stay in San Francisco—for now, at least. And with that, a big weight lifted.

A few months ago, a friend said to me, “I used to think that not having roots was essential, but now I realized that it really makes a difference.”

It’s not that I am unable to detach myself from everything that I know. Despite growing up here, I only got to know the city in the last 6 years in varying ways and the people I surround myself with are not those from my hometown.

It’s that the personality of this city is the personality that I want to adopt. Even with the overt hipster-ness. The laidbackness. The absurd location-based social networks. The clash of gentrification in the midst of yuppie diversification. It’s right here that I want to stay.