hometime.

Properly old, I feel as if I should have stayed longer. I'm going home the day after tomorrow. The almost static breeze on my skin reminds me of what london doesn't have. Will I miss the brightness? The space, it;s so colourful here, the warmth, the unpredictability? My friends my friends my friends my friends my friends. I forgot what it was like to live in a cocoon where everyone is just like me and everything is familiar and I feel loved and understood. Is it going to be hard, will it be like starting all over again, will I have to explain myself all over again? To people I don't even like. That's my life now. I suppose
there isn't a future here. Everybody admits that. What do I do if I live here again?
You can't walk anywhere and where would I live, what would I do?
London has things to do. All the time. I can go for a walk when I am bored at night. I can do what I want. It's allowed.
And the men. They're blatantly rubbish here. Too impossible to meet someone.
Yes. I'll be fine in london. Now that i'm a grown up.
I can always visit, at least I have that. And if I can't stay in england then I guess coming back here isn't as scary as it used to be.
I hope it's not too cold when I get off the plane.