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The Fast Pace Of Life

By Azami - December 02, 2019


As I'm writing this post, days and days after the last one I managed to sit down for to write, Kavinsky's Nightcall is whispering next to me. Wouldn't want to wake up the roommates and his "I 'm gonna tell you something you don't want to hear" somehow makes sense but sounds less frightening at the same time. I'm ready for this update of my London life, two months after first setting foot here.

When I first got here, I used to read the Letter To My Ex post that I wrote for him very often to remember him. We used to text almost everyday and at some point, I felt like we weren't even split up. After watching Eat, Pray, Love, it dawned on me that I was truly on my own - alone. Hadn't been alone for five long years and I was afraid to my very core. I remember begging him, whispering with a broken voice that it's alright, we could stay together, we could even have kids if he wanted. How crazy was I, and how grateful I am that he softly told me, with me in his arms, that I was going to make him pay for it for the rest of my life and that my next step was to live my life, far, in London.

It's been a few weeks, the messages have become friendly ; sending a link to an article on LinkedIn or asking nicely how is that love life going - because I'm still afraid I had such an impact that after four months, he's still not dating. That is a very selfish way of thinking but I can't help feeling like all I left are bad memories, even if he reassures me and says that I cannot realize how much I helped him out with knowing where to take his professional life, helped him out in learning how to really have fun and get out of his comfort zone. Still, that gut feeling is telling me otherwise.
The texts have become more distant, feelingless, if anything ; when I look at pictures of him because I still haven't taken the time to clean everything away, he's not attractive to me anymore. I moved from Paris to London with the most beautiful photos of us, keeping him with me and as I feel like I could throw everything away but one or two for the memory of a good feeling that we had when we took the picture, I understand I am doing what I was so afraid of : moving on.

The moving on is what made me cry so much in the beginning - because I don't want to forget and I don't want to be forgotten. I don't want to let myself be known from fear of these situations - letting yourself open up then to start all over again. I am happy I gave him his freedom back. I'm happy I took mine back too.
They told me that there would be times I would feel very lonely when I arrived in London. I actually don't. I have been lucky enough to meet people, a lot of people. I'm appreciating my alone time a lot, actually. I'm tired around 99% of the time and being in my safe haven is both rewarding and peaceful for both my body and mind. Life is hectic here but I'm getting used to it. So used to it that I don't feel that London is that fast-paced anymore and my guts are already trying to find a way to get more thrill out of life, either by studying or moving to an even bigger city one day.

But they didn't lie. There's plenty of opportunities here. I started out as a Makeup Artist here then went on to work night shifts as a prep cook and am now a receptionist for one of the restaurants at the Shard. Did have the certification and skills to be a makeup artist but had some balls and worked at places which require technicity that some people go to school to get.
I cannot believe the "luck" I have had in life so far. I cannot believe just how much I've grown. I didn't think my skin was so thick - I have taken many a challenge and various degrees of pain here and accepted all of that as part of life with the comfort, everyday, that "whatever happens, tonight you'll be home". Who have I become ? I don't recognize myself. I used to float through life. I am still kinda lost as to what I would like to do with my life and I'm not sure that I want to live my life in a linear kind of way anymore. I used to think that I would push through to become a renowned makeup artist but I don't think that's what I want to do anymore.

Younger, I would be all about becoming famous, famous, famous. For the money. For the love. But growing up with next to no money taught me things. Taught me to be smart, cunning, sometimes sly because you have to be. There was no room for love and my heart is still locked even when I like someone - for some reason I'm still afraid. If you don't open up to your family, how can you open up to a stranger when the time comes ? But what that upbringing taught me is to make it. Whatever happens, I always make it back on my feet. And I'm grateful for all of it, the difficulties and the challenges thrown my way even when it feels too heavy on my shoulders. I will later write an update on my professional life - I just wanted to throw some thoughts on my virtual paper because I've missed blogging a lot lately.

My thought now is that I want to experience it all. I want to try everything I've never tried. Put myself in situations that get me out of my comfort zone, and it's easy, seeing just how shy and afraid of everything I am. But I guess that's what the "Guts Over Fear" tattoo stands for, right ?

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