The last one left in March. She got a job offer and it was a good job offer and she was right to take it and I helped her move. Four hours loading boxes, two hours driving, a long hug in a parking lot outside the new building. I drove home alone on the highway and the city looked smaller.

I've been counting. The first to go was Jonah, five years ago. Then Maya. Then Chris and his girlfriend as a unit, which counted as two. Then three more whose leaving I didn't register as leaving until they were already settled somewhere else. And then her, in March. The city didn't empty. I did.

I'm aware this is a self-pity narrative and I'm trying to be honest about that. They had good reasons. Growth, opportunity, partners, family. Real reasons. Reasons I would have made myself, in different circumstances. But I made different choices - to stay, to build something specific here - and what I built here was mostly around people who are no longer here. I am a hub with no spokes. The infrastructure remains. The connections have rerouted.

I make new friends. I'm capable of it. But new friends require starting from a long way back, and I'm tired. The people who left knew me across time. They knew who I was before I knew who I was. That's not available for purchase or replacement.

Is your city still the same city it was when you moved there? Are you still the person who decided to stay?