For everyone

I've just had a really great day and now I am feeling all reflective and sharey. Gather around family, friends and randoms, I wish to tell a story. Ok, so it's not a story as such, more like a recount of my day mixed with not so original reflections, but I'm feeling poetic and homely. Kind of like a middle aged librarian named Jan who has stringy peppered hair and wears tartan knee length skirts and cabled knit jumpers. She probably has a cat too. Ugh. Cats. Shit, let me start story time again without any Jan or cat references.

Ok. So sometimes I feel selfish for coming to live in London. My guilt is then somewhat garnished with some kind of limp parsley when I can't answer when I'm coming back. And you know what, it is selfish. Leaving family and friends who love you is kind of hurtful to those who are left behind even if they understand why. Missing half of your nieces and nephews grow up, babies being born, weddings and coffees with your mum and best friends at times makes my insides feel heavy. But selfishly, the more time I spend over here, the more I find what I was looking for. And the greatest thing is, I wasn't searching for anything in the first place. Now, I realise how badly I needed leave. Not that anything was bad. I was happy, but my life was just a bit beige. And to put it simply, now, it's not. So how do you reconcile your life versus everyone else's?

Well you can't.

But I don't think London is forever, in fact, it's most definitely not. But it's now. So very now and it's real and most of the time, wonderful. It's not some working holiday with minimum wage bar work and visits to the Walkabout. London is breakfast in Shoreditch - spooning elderflower jam onto toasted sourdough. It's five tea rounds a day. It's a place with the most beautiful parks that stunningly showcase the coming of a new season. It's somewhere where you walk past Orson Wells' house while on your way to eating miniature tacos.

It's just freakin' cool.