“'I'm sorry' wont cut it for the rest of your life
get over yourself and say goodbye
I hope you realize you threw away the best thing that ever happened to you
Forget my name and forget my face hope you get on a plane and forget this place
So I never have to deal with you again”—Valencia
As it stands, I’m honestly under the impression that London was the pinnacle of my life and nothing will ever be that great again. I mean really, living in my favorite city in the world, with some of the best friends ever, barely any work, “just livin’ life, lovin’ it”.
Of course it’s great to be back in Colorado. And I obviously have friends here I love to death, but something is missing. Whether it’s the constant urge to go explore a new part of the city or just hop across the channel and go to Paris, life seems dull. I live for the weekends. I live for a text or call from a certain someone. I live for things that a few months ago were really just not that exciting.
It also doesn’t help much that the majority of my friends from abroad all go to school together leaving me thousands of miles away wishing I was in a state I actually kind of hate. Oh, study abroad and the games you play with me…
I wish we were all like Peter Pan and London was Neverland. Life would be perfect.