It hasn't hit me because I am still here. I am still in London, still in my room with all of my things around me. All of my things very much not packed. Things that need to be packed before 11am on Tuesday.
Just like I never really absorbed the fact that I was coming to London neither have I accepted the fact that I'm going.
Ugh, I just want to put on some sad music, have a good cry, and be done with it.
But I'm never going to be done with London. Because I fell in love with London. I am in love with this city, in love with this country, and all its silly people. If I can't fall in love with anyone, then by golly I am going to fall in love with a city. And that is what happened. That is where I am. I am living in a place where everyday I am happy to wake up in the morning. And that might sound really awful, like hm does this mean that many days Marion wakes up and does not want to face the day? I want to face the day here. I love facing the day here. Because it's London and it's so goddamn magical to me and I wish I could explain it better. I'm not even sure why I love it so much. All I know is that the only "bad" days I can remember experiencing here was when I did not leave my room. Once I'm on the tube (oh god, don't even get me started at how much I love the tube) it's like something is lifted off of me. The tube makes me feel alive. I find myself doing that stupid thing where you smile with your eyes closed as the wind blows on your face and you just breathe in deeply and open your eyes and look at the rooftops of the city and you just feel so, so good. And happy. And okay.
I hope you have enjoyed my plaintive cries inter-spliced with more pictures from Paris.
Some sort of amazing salad with grilled aubergine and cheese and lusciousness.
We went to this killer Italian restaurant down the street from our flat. And snagged the last table. Ohhhh yeahhhhhh. I believe this was pumpkin or squash pasta. IT WAS LIFE-CHANGING.