Living for the moment

Im sorry I'm not writing until now. I've been ill the whole week and felt every possible way confused and afwul. I just wasn't able to write about this until now. So my week back home. What can I say? It was perfect. I was in this blur of happiness and confusion the whole time. I couldn't entirely understand the fact I was walking on my favorite streets again, sitting in my favorite pubs, seeing the people I've missed.

The whole week I just tried to inhale it all in, like every day was my last there. I had waited to get back there so long. Just wanted to live every day fully. It's odd how they tend to say that you have to live like the day your'e living was your last. In England, for me, it's the easiest thing to do. Like Audrey Hepburn once said: "Pick the day. Enjoy it - to the hilt. The day as it comes. People as they come....The past, I think, has helped me appreciate the present- and I don't want to spoil any of it by fretting about the future."  In England, for me, neither tomorrow nor yesterday matters. It's just the moment, the day we're living that counts. All the people around you, the atmosphere you're in, the scents, the voices, everything around you.

Isn't that how we're supposed to live? Live for the moment and everything it has to offer. Live and make everything out of it. Like it  was the last thing you do.

I am the biggest anticipator ever. I think too much and always try to predict how things will go. So far from living for the moment, I know. In England though, I'm different, I go more with the flow. There I find no need to worry about future or past, because somehow I know everything is always going to be alright. Everything will go as It's meant to be.

Because I'm home. 
I am where I'm supposed to be
and It will take me wherever I'm supposed to go.

So the whole week I just lived day by day. Moment by moment. Treasuring everything in a way I've never had before. I loved every minute of it. Well not exactly, the walk we did on our last day before going to the bus station and getting in the bus to Heathrow. I didn't actually love it, the opposite actually. It. Was. Killing. Me.

The closer we got to the bus station, the less I could breathe. I couldn't understand I had just come back and now I have to leave again? It was worse I ever imagined it would. My insides crush in anxiety when thinking about it. Sitting in the bus to Heathrow I couldn't help crying. Tears were just drawing lines on my cheeks. They were sad tears indeed, but partly happy tears too. I had the best week. I was back home seven whole days. Just thinking about all the many new things we did during the week. Numerous of happy moments. I can't help smiling. We really got everything out of the time we had.

Yes, leaving again was killing me as predicted, but now I'm even more certain about the fact that the UK is the place I want to be. My motivation to get back there got even stronger, if that's even possible, and that is exactly what I needed right now. Soon It's finally time to start actually DOING something for my future. I'm going to tell you everything don't worry! Just be patient. Next time, I'll tell you about my trip!

Xxx esme