Short and Sweet (London)

My that's a long trunk you have

It’s been a while since I’ve been back to London.  I had forfeited my last flight back to London a year earlier after I’d fallen ill with H1N1.  I’d decided to throw in the towel and go “home”.

But where exactly is home?  I’d thought that it was NY, where I was born, and had lived for 15 years.  I’d reminisce about it, and when my parents started to become visibly older, I thought I had a certain duty to fulfill.

Life however, rarely works as planned.  I’d fallen in love, had gotten an offer for Austin, and was ready to move when it all fell apart.  The irony?  I’ve been the least settled in 4 years.  If I had this opportunity 4 years ago, I would have jumped on it with glee.  Now, I’m traveled out.

It was for these reasons and a million more that I tried to avoid going to Italy when work required it.  I dragged my feet, bemoaned the long flight (all economy these days) but in the end, I sucked it up and went.  To make things as tolerable (and as inexpensive) as possible, I flew through London.

London.  I’d spent over 2 years here.  Both loving and hating it.  I was worried about coming back.  I was worried that I fall in love with it again and get sucked back in.

For a short sweet weekend I’ve roamed the streets where I used to live, told A of my confusion in my recent repatriation, and confessed how I missed my friends and my community here in London.

And for more than a brief moment, I not so secretly wanted back into this mess.

A lot to think about.