I think we all have one we’re given, and one we choose.
And even though I know this - and that I’ll be back soon - it breaks my heart to leave London a little more every time. You’d think I’d be used to the transatlantic dance by now. The hellos, goodbyes, and the fact that I can never stand on stable ground with a ticking time bomb in my pocket. Just when a routine’s formed - it’s broken. Same goes for relationships, diets, and local cafés. It’s a bit melodramatic, but I’m just quite looking forward to staying in one place for a while.
It’s on the horizon, all in good time - I’m only 22. But I can’t say I don’t dread airports and the wave of horribly dressed Americans waiting for me at Logan Airport. This being said, I’m grateful. Beyond those gates are my family, friends, and pets. It’s not all bad. I just love (adore, even) my life here. What I’ve built for and by myself, standing on my own two feet. Oh! And quick kettles.
As I’m packing away the last of my things, notably a pair of forgotten champagne flutes, I’m realizing how much has changed in the last two years or so. And it’s all happened here. This summer’s been thrillingly pivotal, and I can’t wait to see what adventures this city has in store for me next. It’s the end of an era.
Welcome to the modern age.