Saturday, June 22, 2013

I am writing again...and thinking about life

     I think about London every day since arriving home. I think about it while I am at work, driving, before I go to bed, in the shower, watching television. I think about longing to be with my friends, and I think about going out every night, but most of all, I think about how desperately I want to move to that city. I have only discussed this seriously with a few people. I fear that if I tell certain people, they will shoot the idea down and have a pessimistic view on the subject. I do not respond positively to pessimism. I am a realistic optimist, as I like to say, and pessimistic realists do not spark realistic thoughts in my mind, but act as a wildfire, eating away at my hopes until there is nothing left but miles and miles of ash and I begin to doubt myself. No, this is not a subject to open up for discussion with everyone. I need to figure this out for myself with the help of a select few who will give me the truth, but also help me find other solutions and options.  I need to make a game plan of sorts in my mind. If I am to move to London, I need to think of the basics: shelter, food, work, and survival. I know, deep down, that I can make it on my own. If I want it bad enough, I will pool all of my resources and fulfill the dream. This dream is not different than studying abroad, just on a larger scale. Studying abroad was something I had wanted to do since hearing about it, probably around the time I started high school. I made that dream come true with dedication and concentration; this will be the same. It takes a bigger leap, of course, but the reward will be even greater. I have an ache in my heart and the only way to cure it is to return to that country. Do I need to return to London? I would love to, but one option I have been entertaining is perhaps moving to a smaller city within an hour of London so as to save money and have a more "home" experience, avoiding the hustle of the big city. If I move to Oxford or Brighton, for example, I am still only an hour and a half train ride from the heart of London, and I save money on rent, groceries, transportation, beer, entertainment, etc. It would offer me a way to meet more Brits and perhaps fulfill my dream of marrying one, maybe an Oxford man, at that! Moving to another smaller city, has its cons, though, as it would. As Marcus put it, "Why go all the way there and not go to London". This is the obvious reason. I would put all of my eggs into the English basket, but it would be the wrong basket. It would be the smaller, brown basket with fraying around the edges, as the other sits across the coop with perfect golden weaving and space for more eggs. I would ideally love to move to London, who wouldn't? But does sense beat out excitement? In twenty years, will I regret not living in London? I know for sure that I will regret not living in England at all, but London? I am not sure. I think the thing I fell in love with the most was the culture in England, not necessarily the city. I fell in love with the atmosphere, the lifestyle, the men, the Guinness, the customs, but did I specifically fall in love with London? This is something to contemplate.

     I have been the most depressed these past two months than I have ever been in my life. I am more depressed now than I was after my accident. Well, that might be a slight exaggeration. I can't really compare them, can I? Post-accident depression was more of a fear. This sort of depression does not cause me to lay in bed, not wanting to get out. Or cause me to fear the simplest of things, like my mother going to the food store. But still, I am depressed and think about that city every hour. It consumes me and the longing to be back is overwhelming. I am not sure if I am the only one out of my friends who is experiencing this as extreme as I. I think I might be the extreme case. I needed London. I needed London at the exact time in my life that it took place. I think about how long I had wanted to study abroad and why it took me till my spring semester of junior year to do so. The stars aligned and put me in England at the exact time in which I needed to be there. This may sound like an episode of LOST or Doctor Who, but it is what I believe in my heart.

     So I continue to feed this idea in my head like a seedling. I will water it with each new development and each new problem solved. I will watch it grow until it eventually sprouts and looks towards the sun, ready to begin a new phase of life.