Moving Again

409

It feels stupid sometimes - writing about my thoughts and feelings. I remember when I used to write these sorts of posts in my diary. I still write in that diary every once in a while, just to see how the past years have shaped me.

Overall, I'm quite scared. I haven't lived in England properly for over 5 years now. Sure, I'm fluent and all but I still make mistakes every so often and I'm anxious around people who I find to be much cooler than me. Not only that but I find that every country has their own mentality and it's been so long that I've forgotten how that mindset looks like.

Here I am;
going back to England
going to my dream school
going to my first pride parade
taking more and more photos
getting my first job
leaving the people I adore so much
following my dreams
doing all of these things I'm so dead afraid of

I don't know how to survive, I'm not even over-exaggerating. This is so frightening. What am I even doing?

*screams*

I honestly think these people don't understand how bloody much they mean to me. They're all puzzle pieces and without them I'm cringe... incomplete. Wow. What am I doing. Wow.

I love this city. I love these people. I love this country - in most ways. Fucking hell, I love it here, but I have to go. I'll be mad if I don't. I have to do this, no matter how fucked I might get. This is it, the moment that they say will shape the rest of your life. This is it, only this. This is what matters. I can do this.

i love you

gab