Home number 2

I visited a friend today. He is the most pessimistic person I’ve ever met, and whenever we are together I take on the role of being the double-positive one. I’m optimistic for me and optimistic for him – it takes it all to a whole new level. It was his graduation, and while he was planning his retakes, I got some time to think about my time there too.

I finished the exact same programme a year ago, after living there for two years. It was my first home after moving out from my parents’ house, and I loved it. I lived on 17 square metres, in a tiny one-room thingy, without a shower for two years. We called it the doll house. They were two amazing years!

The first sun after a long winter over my roof back there.

Whenever I’m with my friend I relive that time a bit. We went into the city, and seeing the main square, the harbour and my old way to school made my heart go all warm on me. It was a strange feeling. It is as if I never lived there, still it feels like home. I love the place because it feels like home, after all it used to be, but it feels so unreal thinking that I lived there for so long. It’s too intangible, in a way. The only real thing I have from there is my friends and who I became by living there. I had a beautiful armchair in my livingroom when, and my parents and I are fighting about throwing it out at the moment. I want to keep it because it is one of the last things that give me the feeling of that home. I understand them, though. It is huge! But that’s why it is so lovely…


About Maria Louise

- Maria Louise - 20 - Danish - Norwegian - Living in London - I am living a life filled with opportunities, at times you have to choose not to take them. I take as many as possible, though! Join me on my journey! View all posts by Maria Louise

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