"I think I'm ready to be a woman"
Forget everything you know and start over.
My dinner this evening was a cup of tea and raspberry Lindt chocolate. A meal made for champions I'd say. It's raining outside, I'm tucked up in bed, and all I can think about is how much I miss my old stomping grounds in London Town. God, I miss it so much.
I miss the accents, the busy pedestrians too preoccupied to realize that they've knocked straight into me, and the constant stir of the city. I miss the airplanes flying overhead, the buzz of the traffic outside my window, and the orange glow of nighttime. I miss my friends, our high heels clacking on the uneven sidewalks, and chatting up strangers while trying to keep my balance. I miss my walks in the park, my rides on the buses, and the feeling of pure happiness whenever the sun decided to emerge from behind the grey clouds and kiss me on my cheeks.
I miss my city.
While I do miss it all, and all of the trinkets it holds inside for me, part of me knows it's going to be a long time before I ever live there again. What a sweet naive girl I was to think that I'd be able to go back within two years! I don't think so, darling. It'll only be brief trips and longing memories for now. But someday, when I'm ready and the timing is right, I'll go back for another permanent stay, and I'll be reunited with the first city I had a love affair with.
These days I work, I pay for things, I sort things out, and I do my best to save up money to do new, bigger things I have planned for myself in the future. Yes, it's all vague, and I purposefully leave the details out so I don't jinx it. Every time I open my big mouth and share any kind of idea I have on here I muck it up in some way shape or form. All I'll say is I'm ready for a change, and this change doesn't involve my passport, rather it simply involves a little creative initiative on my part.
I'm twenty-five now, and have been for roughly four months. I guess being a quarter of a century old isn't so bad. It's a lot fucking better than when I was twenty-four, I can say that much. Wow, twenty-four really sucked. The depression sucked. My hairstyle sucked. I sucked. Everything was just shit.
Now, though, things are still shit, but I'm nowhere near as depressed about it all. I do my best to be grateful every day for the things I have in my life, and somehow I feel myself settling a little more in my own skin. Two years out of uni, and I'm just now starting to think I'm almost recovered from it all. The time I spent there can now be translated into "when I was younger" stories, and I'm not scared to look back on the mess I used to be. Don't get me wrong, I loved every single minute I was there, but the dark days were some seriously dark periods in my life, and it used to be hard to think back on it.
I'm not reflective in 2011 as I normally am. At least not yet, anyway. I'm focused on what the future months have in store for me, and I'm ready to tackle it head on. I am ready for this change. I'm ready to start again. I'm ready to move forward, take a deep breath, and plunge into the deep end.
Forget everything you know and start over.