Epilogues.

“From the busy parks, to the icy tides
 Someday we’ll decide
 where we want to live out our lives…”

~ Siberia, Lights ~

I walked through London on autopilot, wandering down each street, remembering each place — it’s interesting how long it takes for your muscle memory to fade.

That’s the beauty of a familiar place. You know how it works, how it talks, how it sings — the motions are almost part of your nature.

…Almost as though you never left in the first place.

One year ago, I left London to figure things out. And a week ago I went back to find a continuation to the story that hadn’t been.

To find old friends, old places, old memories, and at least for a moment, turn them into new ones. To put on old airs and old selves, and measure them up against the latest sense of being I’d developed back home. To keep track of the things I cared about, and the things I didn’t use to care about.

And maybe, on some slightly personal, paranoid level, to gain a sense of whether leaving had been the right choice.

I still think it was.

But it’s always good to know that you’ve lived well enough to leave anchors in your wake. The subtle reassurance that no matter where you are in the world, there will always be things worth going back for.

I’m not going back there anytime soon. Partially because of Brexit, partially because of the lack of novelty, but largely because I want to take a good shot at building some semblance of that life here.

So here’s to old homes and old friends and new dreams. And to creating things in your life that mean something.

Let’s see where the future takes us.