It’s been almost an year since I’ve been leaving in that new city. It’s been almost half of year since i last saw that girl i had breakfast with in that first morning and so many after. It’s been too long since I last visited my hometown, I find it strange that i feel more like home here then in my real home. I feel strange that I am disconnected from the life of my friends back home, with everything that happens in the world i used to live in for so many years. My memories of that time are started to fade away, new friends, new memories, new life.
Sometimes I stay with my eyes fixes in that little black spot from the big ceiling of my room and think that i missed out my life, that i missed so many things because i decided to run away from everything and hide in a new comfy place. Sometimes i have the feeling that my life just passes me and I am just an spectator, just observing the things that happen to me, to everyone around me without making anything, without even lifting a finger to make things better or not.
I don’t know if it was the best decision to run away, i don’t even know if it was a bad decision, all that i know is that i am here and that the light from this new street where is the house that i call now home is very warm and every night it wishes me goodnight and good dreams and it makes me feel safe and wanted.
Some people say i am crazy and insane because i choose to be in another country far away from everything i worked for, some people say i am brave cause i decided to start a new like and i succeeded to find a job, make new friends and create a different life, some people say that I will end up alone, some don’t. What do I say? i don’t know. I admit I don’t have a clue where i will be in a few months, in a year, in 10 years, I don’t know anything but in the same time I feel I know everything in a strange, twisted way.