Today it’s been exactly four weeks since I returned from my RtW summer trip. Time sure flies sometimes. And now I find that living in Denmark is, sadly, not that bad. Even my home town of Aarhus, which usually is way too small, actually feels like a nice place to be. I’ll probably end up living here for another year.
Don’t get me wrong. I would still love to go away, as I probably always will. But now I’ve come to accept that Denmark is, in fact, not as bad as I thought. But I miss the longing. I miss the all-encompassing desire to be somewhere else. I lament my own complacency. I’m sad that I’m happy.
I don’t know if this makes any sense. Actually, I’m pretty sure it doesn’t.