I will live for at least five years in New York City.
This is a statement that I've been making since I was roughly 9 years old and my father took me to my first Yankees game in the south Bronx.
As I grew older (and several dozen more New York City trips later), the thought has yet to subside from my mind.
If you would have asked me 10 years ago where I see myself at 27, I would have told you that I'd be in New York doing something. Something, you ask? True, I couldn't have told you what I wanted to do for the rest of my life - I still struggle with that question sometimes - but I knew it would be in New York.
So, the first important question: Why New York? There's no good answer for this, and to be honest with you, I'm not entirely sure I wouldn't hate living in the city.
All I know is that the city attracts me. It lures me with its seductiveness. I'm infatuated with the city - and yes, we're still talking about a city.
I love the idea of paying $1,500 a month to live in a cramped studio apartment. I want to live in the place where I get yelled at for special-ordering a hoagie.
Most of all, I want to be drawn into promises of big city successes with little or no payout.
The energy of New York is unlike anything I've experienced anywhere else. Granted, I'm not exactly experienced in travel - I've never been farther west than Indiana - but my thoughts are backed by many who have and still say that New York is the best city in the world.
The second important question: OK, you wanted to live in New York so badly. What happened?
Life is what happened, although I don't regret a minute of it. You meet the love of your life, you get married and your professional lives lead you both in other directions.
Sometimes life takes the reigns and you end up in uncharted water, but that's not necessarily a bad thing.
I wouldn't give up my life or family for anything, but a guy still can cling to the last remnants of his boyhood dreams.
Many might call me crazy for wanting to trade a house in the suburbs with a big yard for a tiny apartment with paper-thin walls and noisy neighbors.
But the truth is, I need some of these things in my life. Getting married, buying a house and suburban living has made me an old man. Ask my wife; she'd be the first to confirm this.
My idea of a Friday night out anymore is puttering around in my yard with short shorts and tube socks up to my knees, kicking around dirt while I decide what the following day's yard chores should be.
I exaggerate for effect.
You get my point, though. Sometimes I feel like I need to remember what it's like to still be in my 20s, experiencing all the different things that life has to offer. I'm pretty sure that the "city that never sleeps" could help jog my memory.
The most enticing aspect of this is that my wife feels the same way. She'd have her bags packed in a second if I told her we were moving to New York.
So, the third important question: Why not just do it?
That's a simple answer, too. We love our lives in Scranton too much. We consider ourselves incredibly lucky to have what life has offered us so far, so we try and not take that for granted or be so naive as to throw it all down the rabbit hole so quickly.
Still, one can't help but wonder.
I will live for at least five years in New York City - I may just have to wait until retirement to do it.
No promises, though. The one thing life and New York City seem to have in common is that you never know what's around the corner.
Beardsley, a native of Loyalsock Township, was a former Sun-Gazette reporter. He now resides in Scranton. His column is published on the third Sunday of each month.
He may be reached at email@example.com.