There are still so many things I want to do.
SO many.
I thought, at least at the start of this whole Georgetown thing, I had it figured out - what I really wanted in life.
But that was in light of, y'know, a hugely tumultuous time in my personal life and all I really wanted or needed was to go home.
And that's still true.
In a few months, this whole DC thing - which, shit, has been wonderful y'know. It's been so hard, so hard in so many ways. I've shed far too many tears over this entire ordeal, it's been so difficult for me - moving away, losing (and coming close to losing) a number of extremely important people in my life, feeling helpless and lost, so far so far away and having to deal with that. Watching the remnants of my England life and my Brunei life tossed up like salad leaves into the air while I scramble around down below looking for plates, plates, where are the plates but I'm tripping up over forks, spoons, knives that my new Washington life keeps throwing at me underfoot.
But at the same time it's been beautiful.
After picking myself up and brushing myself off, I'd walk out of the door into a wonderful city.
DC isn't NYC (NYC is a whooole 'nother rant, my love. Words cannot describe the love I have for that place.) but it's great in it's own way.
It may be stiff, structured and not nearly as vibrant as its more cosmopolitan sisters.
But people walk around here with a purpose.
I read an article about why DC was a great city and I can't agree more.
Everyone you meet here is here for a reason. And no, I'm not talking about domestic politics - I know nutsquash about American politics.
People who want to make a difference - in law, in the environment, in championing the rights of migrant children. Whatever it is.
People come in from all corners of the country to intern here, meet Important People here, make a difference here.
And the diversity in that is amazing. It's pretty inspirational, in the one sense. And kinda intimidating because compared to a lot of people (who pretend to know what they're doing, at least) I'm just going around with my eyes closed, bouncing off the walls.
And DC might seem really organized and sterile at first glance, but there's so much life bubbling underneath all the grey.
You just need to know where to look. There are little gems all around the city, streets that are known to have more character than others.
And even where the streets are a little too neat - that's the beauty of this place.
It isn't like the other cities, this is its character.
And I've learnt so much from being at my university. My professors have been incredible, they're all so smart they've had so much experience - real-life experience -they're google-worthy. But on top of all of that, they all genuinely care and want to help you out, teach you things, talk to you. They want to know what you plan on doing in the future - they value your opinions, they know that you want to be a part of this big (although likely idealistic) grand, supreme plan to Change Shit, and they know this, they've been there and they're ready to help out.
My overall experience here has been Insane. I mean there's no other way to describe it... It's definitely taken a toll on my sanity; it's been so good yet so difficult. It's pulled my emotions one way and then the other. I mean if anything in my life could be described as a true test of strength... Bam, hands down. The past year (End of 2011 to end of 2012) has been it.
And y'know, I do look forward to going home. Well... I did.
I still do, I still need to go home and there are so many reasons why I want to (and need to) be home now.
But being home for good will only make the things that have Changed resonate so much more loudly.
I won't be able to run away from the fact that...
Well, I've changed.
Things have changed.
People, places and realities that I left behind almost five years ago
Are either gone
Or are different now.
I'll walk through those glass doors at the airport coming home to something very different from what I left behind.
Coming home intermittently over the years obviously offered me glimpses into these shifts;
it's not like I didn't or don't know.
I've seen bits of it. Little bits change, sometimes major bits change.
But I've taken it all in, one small teaspoon at a time, like a necessarily bitter medicine.
Coming home for good is different, though.
I'll only have one address, one phone number.
One life.
No more running away to my other lives; they won't be there anymore.
The leaves will finally fall in a big messy pile onto a chipped, white plate which I will take through those doors, and home, with me.
And then there's no running.