When I first started thinking about the idea of moving to London, I was extremely unhappy. My return from my travels in Asia back in February of 2008 was quickly followed by 2 months of depression. I wouldn’t say it was severe, but it was one of the lowest times in my life. I could hardly get through a morning, day, or night without crying. I was very good at hiding it. Bathroom breaks at work turned into crying breaks and, at night, I mastered the silent sob. I felt completely lost, disconnected, and, to put it plainly, sad.
After my relationship with Sean ended last summer, I decided that running away to London was a fantastic way to move on. Of course, I didn’t have the funds to immediately do so. I figured it would take me a few months to get enough money together to ship out, but my increased cost of living now that I was on my own and my new addiction to SHOES! & SKIRTS! & TOPS! left very little at the end of the month for my “Running Away to London Savings Account”. I kept pushing it back and pushing back, until one evening a few months ago. I was walking along 4th avenue in Kitsilano when I looked up and saw the most beautiful full moon that I had ever seen. The contrast of the turquoise sky gave it a yellowish tone and I literally gasped with delight upon seeing it. It was in that moment that I realized that I needed to make a plan. I rushed home and crunched the numbers. I decided that two more months would be enough. And the next day I filled out a passport renewal form.
Three weeks ago I realized that I was happy.
The depression from last spring had long since subsided, and for the first time, in a long time, I was fully aware of my happiness. I felt it in the sun. I felt it in the anonymous faces passing me along the street. I felt it in the cool breeze whipping my hair against my face. I felt it in my heart. I realized that I was no longer running away to London in search of happiness or in an attempt to escape my sadness.
I am happy.
And, now, I’m excited too!