On Leaving London Love, Returning to Cape Town
I was nervous to drive yesterday evening, but when I turned the key in the ignition, I felt fine. As I drove over De Waal Drive, dipping and turning, I was overcome by a sense of vitality. The sun was beaming through gaps in the mountain and the city to my right looked bleached by it. I was listening to music and suddenly remembered how sexy and fun summer in Cape Town can be. I felt empowered as I eased into the driving, revelling in the feel of the motor, and thought of how I’d conquered cycling in central London — if I can do that, I can definitely manage riding around my hometown.
Later, seeing my friends offered a boost of positivity and confidence. I feel as if I’m settling into myself again, away from you. I talked and danced and laughed with them under a soft touch of alcoholic influence. Fran and I lazed in bed chatting about life and I became aware of how much my special people had grown and changed and what current predicaments they found themselves in. It comforted me to know that they were all just winging it like me, like us. I felt sad and I missed you but in a way that didn’t feel crippling. In fact, it strengthened me to know that what we have is beautiful but unattainable in certain ways for the present moment. But it’s still there.
I woke up and went for a brief walk on the promenade. The smell of the sea and nature tickled my memory. The light was growing, steeping the landscape in the early spreading gold of tea that will soon deepen into rich amber. In this waking metropolis however, it’s more likely to sink into the white steaming heat of the day. Bright, stark shadows. My window was open on the way home as I watched the morning yawning and felt acceptance at our lot and the need to make the most of this period. A fire is in my belly raging to exorcise itself; energy is bubbling. I feel ready for the day in every way. Come at me with your best shot life, I can take whatever you throw my way.