Up until last week, I was living my life in London, broke and unmotivated, when my boss suggested I move to Portugal. “Don’t tempt me with a plane ticket,” I said. He kept his end of the bargain and so did I. Now, I sit in the magical city of Porto.
I move my cursor to the top right of my screen…”write“, it says. I click on it as it’s too enticing not to.
It’s Sunday and for the first time in months, I haven’t got any work to do. It’s weird. I love my job. I am writer. It sounds so lovely to say even lovelier to say out loud. I work seven days a week. I told myself today would be all about reading poetry and relaxing, but in all honesty—I am so fucking bored.
So many new thoughts have entered my overactive mind in the last few weeks. While I love my adventurous side (and still have a dozen more countries that I would like to see), I have this need to settle down. No, I don’t necessarily mean having kids, getting married, buying a house and investing in things. I mean, I want to find a place that I can call home. This has been all too difficult for the past few years because I’ve had to move apartments, countries and cities every 2-4 months for work or because of a lease that has ended. It’s left me somewhat bitter in that I have to pack up everything I own once again and try to make a new place “homey”. So once again, it’s been a total of 6 weeks in this new place and I have to move out. Just lovely.
Last night, I thought about what I wanted to achieve in 2016. It didn’t take me long to reach the conclusion that I should skip all the bullshit of my not wanting to go out sometimes and not wanting to do something or meet someone because traveling and planning left with me anxiety but more so, I’ve just become stubborn in that, I don’t know how I’ll feel on the day, hence my lack of planning.
I’m beginning to think that I may not be able to be happy anywhere and that scares the shit out of me.
I wasn’t noticed very often. Not by boys, not by men and not by male family members. I was never the hot one or the confident one or the sexy one but rather the friend of the girl who always had a boyfriend. Year after year, boys and men came into my life via her and I always wished it were me. Why wasn’t there any one coming to watch me dance?
I’ve been avoiding writing anything that sounds like a diary entry for a while now (I hate the sound of it).
Everyone thinks that I am having the best time of my life. I am happier than Korea, yes. I persist to call Korea The Hole. I am happy… I’m just… not? What would the adjective be for someone that feels happier and looks happier and sounds happier, doesn’t feel sad or depressed but is?