It's sad to think that my good friend is leaving. Selfish, of course, but there it is. So much so that I almost understand the allure of a small town, the continuity, the familiarity: here are your friends. This is your home. Whereas we, who had no common home, made one here for a while, but no longer. Home of course being not just a place but the people in it. A city is big and doesn't notice that it's changed but it has, all the same. No home lasts forever, I suppose, and how wonderful that I got to have this one. Still. Sometimes. To slow things down. The kind of overlap that exists and is allowed in life is not always satisfactory.
I wish him such good luck.