Houston goodbyes left me so drained that the first few days in London felt so uplifting and free and exciting….
and then the homesickness kicked in. The novelty of a new city with no real contacts set in and the shine of London has worn off considerably…still exhilarating to step out into the city everyday and catch different trains and buses, but then realizing that this is supposed to replace home become home seems impossible.
The entire last month before leaving, I was determined not to cry and be weepy …until the last weekend. I vowed that if I held on until the end, I could be a complete mess and bawl my eyes out 18 times a day until the unbearable tightness in my heart would find loosen, giving me some relief. Yet, as the last days approached, I found myself unable to let go, there was too much to do, too many people around, too much fatigue…and too much restraint left my eyes watery for days without any real floods.
So I boarded the plane, leaving my homeland…my country of 26 years, my city of 13 years and my friends of infinite lifetimes…to come to a city of strangers. I don’t feel like a tourist but more like a potential buyer, full of suspicions, seeing too clearly all that is wrong with this place, and ready to flee without any real potential to buy…. except that I’ve already signed on the dotted line, already committed myself to 3 years here as an immigrant, at the very least.
Though I say all this, I know I will survive thrive… I just need a minute or two to fully mourn the loss of my home (because no matter what they say, once you stop living in a place, no matter how often you return, it will always be as a visitor and it s just not the same thing) and then I will, I will, I will bloom where I’m planted.