Yesterday I came back to a city I never could love. The memories of it are filled with anxiety, overwhelming bitterness, pathetic disillusionment and an all time low in self esteem. To say I was wary of stepping in this city again would be an understatement. Plain truth is, this journey back here has been uncomfortable and the first day was filled with a sense of persecution. The memories clawing at my heels like a desperate stalker. From touch-down, I couldn't shake the feeling of being followed, being watched, being judged...
A day after, it feels much better. Though the night was disturbed with interrupted, disjointed and twisted dreams, the morning has cleared the unhappiness.
Circumstances may have changed and therefore the unhappiness quotient, but it’s not as easy to rework the memories. They surface with odd clarity at times they are least desired.
But through all of this, finally, I am coming to terms with a reality that has long eluded me.
Happiness and a sense of freedom.