There was a time in my life when I lived almost a year completely by myself, in a city I barely knew.
This city eventually became part of me, a part of my genetic make up so integral that the longing is painful.
I was freer than I had ever been or will ever be again in my life. I was so alone, and it was so exhilirating, so empowering. I learnt so much about myself that I would not have been able to had I always been surrounded by others.
I will never forget breathing in the crisp, night air, the coldness piercing my lungs. Or sitting at my desk looking out into a dark sky as fat raindrops fell onto the ground. The hills I climbed, the walks by a river so beautiful I had to spend some time by it just to feel the sense of awareness and appreciation.
It is a city known for producing artists, musicians that are not in the mainstream. They are people who blur the lines. They are not shy of their art, unapologetic.
It is not a place that I expected to have such an impact on me. Even while I was there, I probably did not realise. This city is overshadowed by its bigger, more popular sister. But it is the one with all the magic.
Little things remind of it. So vivid, I can feel the cold night air surrounding me thousands of miles away. I can only hope that the clarity does not fade over time.
