Everything

There are many things to be thankful for.

I'm thankful to be able to spend some time in a place where I can step outside and be swept up in welcomed chaos for as long as I want. I'm thankful for the reflection of the sunshine on the Thames, the choppy waves splashing against the age-old bricks that carve a watery path through the heart of London. I'm thankful for the greenery that should seem out of place in such a grey, metallic city but finds its home in tiny, undiscovered nooks regardless. I'm thankful for the tiredness that consumes me after a day of walking, the fatigue in my bones acting as a sign that something is wearing on me in a good way.

I'm thankful for the people that I've come to love as family; the ones who treat me like their own, who lend me a hand and allowed me to infiltrate their lives for a short time. I'm thankful for those waiting back home with open arms, soon to be reunited after weeks of not being able to see the whites of their eyes and hear the laughs as they form. I'm thankful for the man at the register who spares me a smile on a dreary, rainy day. I'm thankful for the girl spending time in the park with herself and the words in a book, painting images in her mind with every turn of a page.

I'm thankful for the muddied boots and the frizzy hair, for the full stomachs and the heavy, drooping eyelids. I'm thankful for the delayed trains and the lonely passengers; I'm thankful for the second row from the stairs on the top deck of the bus, the seat right next to the window. I'm thankful for Polly's Tea Room. I'm thankful for all the Earl Grey's on Thursday mornings on Southwark Street. I'm thankful for the two missed chances and the heartache that followed. I'm thankful for the stay, stay, stay and the go, go, go.

I am thankful. For everything, for all of it. I am unequivocally grateful.

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