Autumn by the Liffey is bitter cold on a good day. Yet I still find myself romanticizing the leaves crunching under my feet and rosy red cheeks. The air is different here, and I am becoming different here. Unfamiliarity has become familiar, and change has become the norm.
What will happen when I leave this nomadic chapter of my life? Will I begin another? I suppose it's my fate to be always chasing, always looking for something before I know what that something is, and I'm starting to become okay with that.
The river flows by quietly in this city. The leaves fall unheard and we pass each other by on the street like ghosts. We are in the same city now, oceans away from normality and strangely connected. This thought makes me feel so serendipitous; nothing like the lonely vagabond I thought I had become.
Tantalus: Thank you for pointing out this interesting coincidence! Life never fails to surprise me.
