I sit distractedly stirring my coffee while thumbing through my Instagram feed. It was early— probably too early for coffee. And, probably too early to be hungry, but I was. It was also too early to be at an airport. Another airport. Or the same airport. I don’t really know at this point. Always waiting for another flight. Always going. Always needing a getaway and yet, always away.
How does that make sense?
I had arrived the evening before from Stockholm. Home by 10p; awake by 3a. This was my normal, so why did it feel so crazy? My room— or the room that a friend so kindly was letting me land at for the next couple of weeks— was strewn with suitcases and dirty clothes that had just returned from Scandinavia along with me. It had been a good trip, fun crew, and wonderful days in one of my favorite cities. I had seen old friends, made new friends, and became better friends with a few. This was a week when I loved my job, and when away was better than staying. Besides exhaustion, getting sick, and feeling slightly unhealthy, I felt thankful for the nonstop lifestyle.
This city has my heart- Copenhagen, Denmark
The life is nonstop, even on days off. This morning, groaning because I didn’t feel good and because I wanted that feeling of ‘home,’ I forced myself out of bed. I had to escape one of my least favorite states. This place isn’t forever I whispered to my soul. You won’t always have to drive Greta, or pack and unpack suitcases every day of your life. Someday, ‘home’ will be a familiar word. I think that if I could simply stay in Copenhagen forever and only step foot in Florida for 24-48hr at a time, that would be bliss. Or let me stay in California. That would be a slice of heaven.
My heart is home here
So, it was me and my coffee, waiting for the minutes to pass— hoping I would hear my name announced over the airport terminal loudspeaker. I did, and it was a surprise. I had already written that option off as impossible. It made me re-think impossible.
Maybe my dreams are not so impossible- they only constantly feel that way.
Maybe my lifestyle and relationships combined are not so impossible— it’s only that saying goodbye is too familiar.
Maybe I can live somewhere— like my keys, my room, my house?
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