an ambivalent homecoming

living in other countries is a blessing and a curse. i don't regret a moment of it and i wouldn't give it up for anything, but it's painful nevertheless. my roots are sinking in, every time i move i leave a piece of myself and no matter where i am i never feel wholly at home.

i've gotten attatched to these streets, my ankles are used to wobbling on ancient uneven stone and i can walk the rhythm of the beeping crosswalk signs, the metallic ring of hurried cyclers, the roar of bus engines and the familiar monotone of the danish tongue.

i'll miss the bright buttery light of warm bakeries.
the curt nod of the bus driver as i flash my pass.
the good natured limping green grocer who only spoke danish.
the patient silent lines in fakta at five o'clock, putting the divider in place for the next person.
legs and arms bared and spread in all the parks to welcome sunshine long awaited.
basking in dazed reverie by the lake in christiania.

equally i'm anticipating the return to the homeland.
at the core of me i've terribly missed my family. more than i ever thought i would. i miss cheap coffee and raul's empanada town and effortless conversation and the comforting vastness of new york and although it guilts me i miss driving. i know i'll miss not driving when i return.

but i wouldn't have it any other way. the sentiments are balanced, and equally sincere. and copenhagen, i'll be back someday.

i'm goin