I really miss the endless possibility of London, England. Being there last spring meant that I was not safe, I was not coddled, I had to be a single human being. It was a great thrill to be totally independent, on a different continent than all of the people I relied on. I loved it.
I loved being just me. Not the me attached to my parents, or an appendage of my ex, or the shoulder my friends leaned on. The me that liked to flirt and dance and drink and sing and laugh and play. The me that felt like life was exciting and everything was achievable if only you fucking go out and actively do it. Thinking only gets you so far.
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