Compass

I’m afraid that two weeks abroad has made you a stranger. Unless of course you count my attempts at trying to remove the white and black lint from my neutral coloured closet a worry (however, I would label that a preference because I still walked the halls today with fuzz balls as my main accessory to my black dress). The start of my journey has been anything but what I could have planned; planes were late, busses were missed, friends were MIA, and directions lost in translation. But somehow in the mix of things I misplaced you. Or maybe I have left you, far back across the Atlantic with my life that was accustomed to habitual worry.

I understand how realistically you may re-enter my life again because you are very much real, but if I am everywhere but reality how can you touch me? The simply answer is that you can’t. You have no hold on me and this is largely in part to my benevolent funds, exercise sabbatical, and decorative food holiday.

This is a time in my life that I will never get back. A time without a job, sport, boyfriend, or illness keeping me from doing whatever, whenever with whoever.

I have had yet another jam-packed week in London but I have struggled to figure out how all of these events found room in my life. And then I saw it. They took your place.

 

RIP WORRY

I’ll catch you when reality hits

Until then, I’ll stick to my fantasy life

 

Riley Makenna