My Mumbling Thoughts

Everything is packed aside from a dress that's hanging to dry, and all of my bathroom toiletries. Although saying that, I'm leaving the majority of my bathroom toiletries, because they simply will not fit in my massive suitcase that I've filled to the brim with English goodies.

I don't want to leave.

I've been here nearly a month, and have stayed an extra week, thanks to that awesome volcano that decided to spew lava and ash everywhere forcing all European airports to close down for nearly a week. I'm sure the random "Act of God" caused havoc for 99% of the travelers trying to reach their destination, but for me, I was quite happy to stay in London and enjoy the sunny days without a single care. The extra week allowed me to see people that I didn't get to previously see in my original days, and see people one extra time that I felt I hadn't seen enough. It made me happy.

Whilst I've been here, I've been on a few nights out, went to a house party completely sober, spent an amazing day lazing in a Wimbledon park that I never knew existed, went to the cinema, got a new piercing, ate at all of my favorite food places, shopped until I dropped, cried because I was sad, laughed so hard I cried, snuggled with my favorite people, rode the bus alone, wore fake eyelashes, sang classic ballads with my friends into hair brushes, ate my weight in cheese, did four loads of laundry, made future travel plans with friends, smiled so hard my face hurt, and so much more.

It was epic.

I realized that I really needed to come back to see everyone, and just be back. I was so consumed with myself in Virginia, and had it all wrapped in my head about how life is when I'm not here, that it was nice to come back and just be. I was convinced that everyone was living these extraordinary lives without me, and I was stuck back at home living some blah mediocre life, taking three steps back when everyone was leaping ahead of me. It's not that I don't want my friends to do well for themselves, it's just I felt like I was being left behind, when that's clearly not the case. We're all the same in the sense that we're in the process of trying to figure out what we want our futures to be, what we want them to look like, and how we want to carve it all out for ourselves. I've not been left behind at all. If anything, we're all standing next to each other holding hands and bracing ourselves for the big leap into a new Unknown.

I love this goddamned city, we all know this. But it's not just my love of the city that draws me back. It's my friends that make it magical for me, and this entire trip has been about us; us hanging out, spending time with each other, and having those fantastically long conversations that drag on to the early hours of the morning. This trip taught me that it doesn't matter where we are, so long as we're together we can make anything special.

I shall be back in Virginia tomorrow, and will head back to work the next day. I'll continue to work, save money, accrue vacation time, and be on a set schedule. It will get boring for me, and I'm sure I'll get frustrated and eventually get to the point where I'll want to uproot everything and start anew. But I know it's not a horrible existence, I know that there's more inside of me that I want to do, and I know I'm not alone.

Posted by Sam at 08:59 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

It literally felt like everything was on pause for ten months, and the second we landed I pressed play again.

I picked up right where I left off. Nothing changed. Everything was exactly as I had left it. Completely untouched. There were hugs and excitement briefly when I'd first see people, but within minutes the novelty would quickly wear off and I easily slid back into London Living.

This is how it was meant to be. If I had never moved back to America, this is exactly where I would have left off, the story continued.

However, as my days have worn on, and I become more and more settled, I've begun to see the subtle changes in my surroundings, in my friends, and most importantly, in myself. I'm no longer a student that spends my days locked away in my room yearning for the brief London sunshine; rather I am a university graduate who is a full-time employee at an awesome company, and am simply a visitor in this city that I still consider to be my home.

It was a shock and hard realization when time carelessly slapped the past ten months in my face and I felt how much time has actually passed by me. I sat with Zoe in Lee House with all of its familiar smells and dirty reminders, and while we spent the better half of nine hours endlessly catching up, I felt my absence. While we reminisced about the good 'ol days, and things that have happened while we've been apart from each other, I noticed that I don't miss my old life as much as I thought I did. I don't miss being a poor uni student with essay deadlines looming, I don't miss the party scene, the drugs, the crazy nights out, the stress of lecturers, yadda, yadda, yadda. I don't miss the campus. I don't miss the drama. I don't miss the bubble.

I'm glad to be gone.

Of course I miss my friends and the time that we would spend together, and I miss the city with all of its tempting offerings, but I don't miss university life, and coming to that realization made me very sad.

I came back to my friend's flat that I'm crashing at, and had a bit of a cry the next day on Helen's shoulder (some things, I suppose, will never change). Why have I been gone for so long? Why have I missed all of these things? Why have I not been involved or around to help and be a continuous part in my friend's lives? Why don't I know all of the little day-to-day details, and how come I can't say things like, "oh! You remember that one day!" and have everyone instantly know what I'm talking about before I even finish the sentence? I don't make plans to go abroad with them overseas. I don't share three hour long conversations with them anymore. I only have a vague idea of their lives by what has been provided via the internet or our scattered chats over Skype.

Some things, I've learned, will never change. The level of comfort in my friendships allows me to arrive after a ten month long absence and slip into old routines that feel so natural it really is as if I never left in the first place. Other things, however, will change. I knew it was an inevitable possibility that I was going to have to deal with after arriving. I just didn't think it would surprise me as much as it did, or make me feel such a great loss. Things did not pause. They very much carried on just like they always do after my leaving.

It still feels like my city, though. London is just as captivating and vivacious as when I left it. The bathtubs are still so deep I have to focus on not slipping and injuring precious ladybits when I'm climbing out. The food still tastes like its been cooked on pans that are coated in a week's worth of grease. The sidewalks are still littered with random papers, empty bottles and odd characters of every nature. I still smile when listening to my iPod and watching the scenery change outside the bus window. My friends still make me laugh so hard I have to clench at my sides from the happy pains.

My friends are still my friends. It's the one thing I hope never changes in a city so rapid.

Posted by Sam at 04:49 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I remember I was on the train on my way to go visit Ando for our last meeting, and while the city transformed into country outside my window, I was exchanging text messages with Mel about purchasing my plane ticket to go back home. She told me that it would be cheaper for them to book a round tirp flight (returning back to London), rather than them purchasing a simple one-way flight. When did I want to come back?

When did I want to come back to London? What a very open quesiton. I didn't really want to leave in the first place. But I guess if I had to put a date on it, I'd go with April. London's so lovely in the springtime. Perhaps over Easter break when everyone's off and the weather is warm enough to sit down by the river with a pint. Yes, April sounded perfect.

Momma and Mel thought I wouldn't go back in April, that I would simply "miss" my flight, but for me purchasing a return flight was set in stone. It was motivation that pulsated throughout me everyday. When I was frustrated during my unemployment months, I just kept telling myself that I needed to get a job so I could save up some money for my tirp in April. When I was annoyed with living in VA and dealing with Americans, I remembered that I was going back to London in April. When I missed my friends and wanted to be close to them, I remembered about my trip in April and how we'd be reunited.

I was going back in April, and nothing was going to stop me.

Now, after counting down the months, the weeks, the days, the hours, it's finally time for me to break out the old suitcase for another trip to my home away from home, my mother country. I'm packing everything up tonight, finishing the necessary cleaning, and will fly across the Atlantic ocean once more, a journey that I'm more than familar with. However, unlike all the other trips, this one will be short-lived, and instead of me having to struggle with two giant suitcases, and two shoulder bags, I'll be much lighter. There won't be any uni work for me to complete, and I won't have a job that I have to sit at for eight hours of the day. I will be completely free to spend my time as I see fit, and I have been busy making as many plans as possible with everyone that I want to spend time with.

It feels strange to think that I'll be back in London after being gone for nearly a year. What will have changed? How different are my friends going to be? How much have I missed out on? Will it be awkward, or will everything naturally fit back into their old grooves and we'll carry on as if nothing has changed? I'm curious/excited/nervous to find out. No matter how much we fight it, time changes everything, changes people and who we remember them as, and who they are today. Will my friends think differently of me?

Everything at the moment is clouded with overflowing excitement, such a climax that there's a knot in my chest and a lump in my throat that I can't seem to get rid of. I can't wait to go back. I can't wait to be back. I simply cannot wait any longer.

London, my love. Why did I ever leave? The distance and time apart has only made me miss you more. I even miss your weather. The second my feet hit British soil, I will remember and know that this is where I'm meant to be. Home is where the heart is, and you stole mine five years ago.

Posted by Sam at 10:42 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)