20/10/2019
1 year ago I came to this city, London. I came full of life, hope, joy, and happiness. I came here seeking my future, my freedom, and whatever is left from my broken dreams.
It’s no surprise that heartbreak, loss of friendships, and covid-19 would make me hate this city with all my heart. And I genuinely did.
I experienced grief for many things I lost here, most importantly, myself. The old me, the joyful careless and loving me.
Now I’m just grumpy, annoyed and, sadly, still grieving.
It’s 8:56 PM, it's a rainy Wednesday evening in the mids of autumn (20/10/2021). I just finished a creative writing class that my endless curiosity urged me to join.
I don’t know if it’s the smart teacher, the class feeling, the idea that I am pursuing my dreams, or me completely ignoring why I shouldn’t do what I want to do; BUT I feel happy.
I feel like a baby again, chasing her dreams fearlessly, knowing that she might and almost certainly fail but will do it anyway. A child that sees beyond failure to the process of learning and growing.
I feel happy. Genuinely happy. And most importantly I feel that I am finding myself again.
I think I’m falling for this city all over again.
