I sat, distractedly stirring my coffee as I thumbed through my Instagram feed. A�It was early, probably too early for coffee, and probably too early to be hungry. A�But I was. A�It was also to early to be at an airport. A�Another airport, or the same airport. A�I don’t really know at this point. A�Always waiting for another flight. A�Always going. A� Needing a getaway, but always away.
How does that make sense?
I had arrived the evening before from Stockholm, home by 10p, awake by 3a. This was my normal, so why did it feel so crazy?A� My room, or the room that a friend so kindly was letting me land at for the next couple of weeks, whenever I happened to be in town, was strewn with the suitcases, and dirty clothes that had just returned from Scandinavia along with me. A�It had been a good trip, fun crew, and wonderful days in one of my favorite cities. A�I had seen old friends, made new friends, and became better friends with a few.A� This was a week when I loved my job, and when away was better than staying.A� Besides exhaustion, getting sick, and feeling slightly unhealthy, I felt thankful for the nonstop lifestyle.
Enjoying the moments with a colleague in Copenhagen
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This city has my heart- Copenhagen, Denmark
And it is nonstop, even on days off. A�This morning, groaning because I didn’t feel good, and because I wanted that feeling of home, I forced myself out of bed. A�I had to escape one of my least favorite states. A�This place isn’t forever I whispered to my soul. A�You wona��t always have to drive Greta, or pack and unpack suitcases every day of your life.A� Someday, home will be a familiar word.A� I think that if I could simply forever stay in Copenhagen, and only step foot in Florida for 24-48hr at a time, that would be bliss. A�Or let me stay in California. A�That would be a slice of heaven.
My heart is home here
So, it was me and my coffee, waiting for the minutes to pass hoping I would hear my name announced over the airport terminal loudspeaker.A� I did, and it was a surprise.A� I had already written that option off as impossible. A�It made me re-think impossible.
Maybe my dreams are not so impossible- they constantly feel that way.
Maybe my lifestyle and relationships combined is not so impossible- saying goodbye is too familiar.
Maybe I can live somewhere- like my keys, my room, my house?