15 April 2016
Well, I am here again. I’ve been meaning to go back to this place for quite some time, but I’ve always had excuses, always something else to do. We’ve been mostly quiet, too, and I am hoping, with all my heart, that your silence means you are having the time of your life, that you are outside and meeting the world. Thinking about you happy, in the middle of doing things you love—I don’t mind it at all, the distance.
And yet I miss you, and so I am here.
My days are pretty hectic as I am about to go away on a trip tomorrow. Most of the time it’s full of doubts and questioning my decisions (as I am wont to do). And the tiny spaces left I fill with poetry and anything else that would keep me anchored to the present moment.
What are your anchors now, I wonder. Has living in another country finally become another piece of your life falling into place, or is it still something you’re trying to figure out? Do you wake up every morning thinking that this is all so new, or have you found yourself surprised that you’ve grown familiar enough with everything to develop and nurture rituals and routine?
I sometimes dream of staging a disappearance from the life I’ve known and everybody who has known me, and reappear somewhere else, in another city or country, unknown and unnamed. The dream to remake myself is constant.
Well—perhaps not remaking so much as restructuring. Rearranging into the person I am meant to be, if only because it’s taking such a long time to arrive there myself, by myself, in this life.
I keep asking, how much longer? Somewhere at the back of my mind, an echo: Perhaps it takes as long as it takes.