I've thought a lot about how I feel about life in London the last few months. We've been "back" in London for nearly two years now. It hardly feels like we really ever left for that one year back in California. That year feels like a distant memory, like it might have really only happened in a dream. I don't really speak of our time in London as "this time" and "last time," as it feels very much like one long run. In all, our time in London now spans nearly four and a half years. The one part of our year back in the states that serves as a constant reminder that it really wasn't just a dream was how painful that year was for me. Like a dumped girlfriend my heart ached for London.
As I reflect on that time, and the two years since, it's got me thinking much about where we are and how I feel about it. So many things contribute to this, but I'm happy to be at a place where if we had to leave London again, I would be okay with it. There are some things I'd really like about returning to the US, and a small part of me hopes that might happen. This isn't to say I've lost the love for London. Well maybe just a little, and if you had experienced this last winter you'd understand (which literally ended only a month ago, literally; and even though it's moderately warm now, it's still wet and grey). I still love this place. It feels more like home than any place I've lived as an adult. I know it better than any place I've ever lived. I feel completely at ease here. I get how to live here.
As with many other things in life there is a certain evolution of phases in life abroad. I'm at the very content, very invested, very embedded stage, but also very satisfied stage. It literally just only occurred to me recently that we are immigrants. This thought took me by surprise. Previously in my mind immigrants were others migrating to my home country. Strange thinking that is what I am in this country. This feels too much like home for me to be an immigrant.
Oddly this post comes just as we leave for a trip home. My other home.
