So I’m here now. It’s the autumn after the summer before and every day I’m living the life that I spent years looking forward to. Sometimes I’ll be walking down the street by myself in this unfamiliar place and everything will click and I’ll realize that this is my life now. I lived through each day to get to the next day and the next and all those days have led me to here. This city, this unfamiliar place that still feels strange to call home. I can’t say it without a bad feeling in my mouth, without a sort of cognitive dissonance. But this is where I’ve always wanted to live so I must love it.
(I don’t always love it but I’ll speak on homesickness another day.)
Now that I’m here though, it means I actually have to live it. Sometimes I feel as if this can’t possibly be my life, that I’ve stolen someone else’s days and I’m meant to be back at home stuck in the same routines. But no. I’m here, with new routines, new places to be, new places to come back to, and it’s terrifying and it’s exhilarating and it’s thrilling. I don’t know when the day will come that I can walk down the street without a sudden realization that where I am is where I am and where I’m meant to be. I hope it never comes.