Rückkehrunruhe:

the feeling of returning home after an immersive trip only to find it fading rapidly from your awareness.

Fin

It's Saturday as I'm writing this--two days before I'm set to leave.

Less than 48 hours separate me from a lumpy seat on a plane. From there, nine hours sit between both sides of the Atlantic. Another hour of interstate highways before I can open the door and take a deep breath in and finally know what my house smells like to a stranger.

Home.

It's a bit daunting, I think. Everything that I've been looking forward to has come and gone, everything that I sat and planned and wrote down in a planner has been crossed off and tucked away as a memory. It makes me wonder if time really does move this fast all the time, if everything is destined to become a simple blur of the past, if all this journey will become is a fleeting thought every now and again.

The reality of the situation is that I don't want to leave. But there's also the fact that I can feel myself curling inward from being away from home for so long; I can feel my body trying to cling on to something that has some aspect of something familiar. It doesn't make things easier, but I'm trying. I'm trying to make myself make a decision.

Stay. Go.

A part of my heart is going to stay here, nestled safely in the cracks of the footpath on Waterloo Bridge. Another piece will rest in the soft grass of Hampstead Heath--another in Soho, another on Great Dover Street, another at the O2 Arena. Bits of me will remain along the Thames, slowly sinking into the pavement where I've run over and over again. A fragment of my mind carelessly frolics along the cliffs of Dover, and still another will walk the streets of Oxford for many days to come.

I'm not ready for the onslaught of tears that I know is steadily approaching. I'll try to contain myself until I'm cruising over the ocean, and then I'll let the water flow from my eyes just as it flows underneath me. The wheelbarrow of emotions I've been carting along with me this whole time is dangerously close to tipping over, much to my discontent.

But even still, I'm happy. Really, genuinely happy--and this isn't the type of happiness that you get from a birthday, or a graduation, or a good grade. This is happiness that I feel in the deepest parts of my bones, happiness that consumes my entire body. Happiness that replaces the air in my lungs so when I breathe, I feel a warmth in my chest that has me walking on the tips of my toes and lifting my head to the sky. Happiness that echoes with every step I take, the sound filling even the emptiest parts of my brain. Happiness that shines a long-deserved light on the parts of myself I'm trying to renew, the parts that deserve better beginnings and move toward more fulfilling endings.

Like I've said before--I came to London for London. And London welcomed me with open arms, pulling me out of the rut I dug myself into in the last year and a half and pushed me out, exposing me to more of myself than I even knew existed. Everything about me is a little bit more retrospective, a little bit more calculating. These blog posts have allowed me to explore a more intuitive side of thinking--I can look at the world a little bit more poetically and find inspiration in even the most mundane situations.

So, I want to say thank you.

Thank you to all the friends I've made, the ones who have made this place feel like home. The ones who made it easier on the days where my heart ached, on the days when I wanted nothing more than to waste the sunlight away underneath my sheets.

Thank you to everyone who read this blog. It was a weird decision for me to make in terms of what kind of content I wanted on here, but I hope you all enjoyed everything you read. I hope the songs I posted made you feel things. I hope the words I've written made you think.

Thank you to every random person I spoke to, every stranger I smiled at who had the heart to return it. Every person who recognized me whenever I'd walk into a restaurant, every kind word that probably didn't mean much at the time but still comforted me for a moment or two.

And thank you to this beautiful city and its beautiful mind. Thank you for allowing me to learn you. Thank you for letting me lose myself and, consequentially, find myself. Endless, endless love.
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"I still believe a connection like this--like ours--has no origin. It has always existed, but it only shows its face when we come together. We become the ones who arrive in a whirlwind of uncertainty and trepidation but leave so suddenly, only the promise of a return hanging in the air between us.

I will, I will, I will."

Song of the Day

Leon Bridges - River

tip me in your smooth waters
i go in as a man with crimes,
come up for air
as my sins flow down the Jordan

Song of the Day

The Cinematic Orchestra - To Build a Home

when the gusts came around to blow me down,
i held on as tightly as you held on to me

Song of the Day

Gabrielle Aplin - A While

i've been trying to sleep for a while
there'll be nothing left to talk about
and no one left to hear

Seven

The impending feeling of separation anxiety and sadness is probably the only thing keeping me from actually starting to pack. But it's coming and it's inevitable, and sooner or later I'm going to have to deal with the fact that I'm leaving.

If you asked me a month ago, I'd already be in line at the departure gate with my carry-on bag, eager to get back to some semblance of familiarity. But now things are growing on me. The overcast weather is a joy. Rush hour is bearable. Tourists are a necessary evil. The constant, ceaseless noise is an old friend.

Though classes have already ended, there are still a few assignments tying me down to King's for a few more weeks. But as soon as those are done, my time as a student here will officially be over. In the mean time, the last week should be exciting. I'm ready to be truly and entirely exhausted from trying to see and absorb as much of London as I can before I ride the Tube one final time toward the airport.

Things are starting to pick up just as they're winding down. There are lots of feelings flying around, but I'm bracing myself for everything headed my way. One week to go.

Song of the Day

Hozier- Cherry Wine

the way she tells me i'm hers and she is mine
open hand or closed fist would be fine
the blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine