Tipsy Typist

I was in an 'interesting' mood before the two dirty martinis, patron shot, and o-bomb...so after that potpourri of liquor 'interesting mood' became waaay too contemplative, somewhat angry, and deconstructive mood.
Here are the issues at hand: As excited as I am to move back to Chicago (miss it sooo much) I'm also scared shitless. I am scared that it won't be as great as I remember it to be because all of my friends are gone, or in serious relationships, or married,...or worse, in the suburbs!
Issue 2: I'm tired of boys. I just am. I give up. I'm tired of the "you need to like me more than I like you" game. I'm sick of hearing "I like you but...or worse, I love you but.."...but should never follow I love you! I'm tired of trying to figure them out. I'm tired of taking care of them. I'm tired of the social stigma that precludes to the notion that this is the time in my life in which i'm supposed to be with one. I'm tired of being on cloud nine with them and down in the dumps without them. I'm done. I'm sticking to shoes....I'm off of sushi for the moment, particularly tuna, due to a recent wicked case of food poisoning.
I'm leaning toward picking a random large city on the map and just moving there. Just starting over. No exes. No crushes. No crazy family. No history. Just me and my rapidly depreciating, yet uber-fashionable assets.....yet something is holding me back?!...Why?! Is it fear?...there is comfort in the familiar.
Comfort. An interesting concept. I don't know the last time I was comfortable, but I'm pretty sure it ended badly.