I had spent my entire life searching for it, and there, across the Atlantic and seemingly across the world, I had found it. Amidst the Mind-the-Gaps and District-and-Circle-Lines and proper pots of tea, I had found it.
Distinctly, I remember slipping in earbuds that were leashed to an iPod, sliding said iPod into my pocket, and strolling (at an acceptably hurried pace) down to the post, perhaps to buy some stamps and a souvenir trinket of sorts. Weaving through throngs of meandering people, past sidewalk cafes that boasted lots of prawn (terrible) and rocket, past hidden windows and doors built into an unobtrusive stone wall at the clashing of past and present, I found it.
I found it in first looking right instead of left when crossing a road; in needing to purchase an extra coin-carrying purse because, for God's sake, why was everything up to £3 in coin form?; in traversing a Waitrose (admittedly not as good as Sainsbury's) and picking up a package of chocolate biscuits for nothing more than 50p; in waiting for friends in front of a large, over-sized memorial to Victoria's late husband, thinking him golden and rather trapped from atop his black steeple; in asking where I could find the Ladies' and having someone understand that I didn't mean to find a group of polite, young women; in purchasing a packet of crisps in the most ridiculous of flavors while tossing back yet another pint of Strongbow (and/or Guinness, though not simultaneously); in staying past last call while in the company of newly-formed friends (and perhaps a fleeting romantic interest), drinking more than I really should, but not regretting a single moment when waking up only a few hours later; in grabbing a pasty on the way to class then later wondering why I had thought it a good idea when frantically trying to find a Ladies' around the East End; in every double-decker bus that I never really took; in every Underground and every Oyster Card and every "top off" station I needed to find; in every smell, every sound, every tiny fleck of air that lathered my skin on that beautiful, entrancing island.
I found it. It was there. Years of unanswered questions seemed all but trivial. The biggest concern I could manage to have was how much time I had before the local opened and if I could manage to scarf down a dinner consisting of oiled noodles, salad, and bread in a reasonably quick amount of time. Tomorrow didn't matter, really, for today was all I needed. It was all I wanted. Please, give me another heaping scoop of this here and now, barkeep. I could ask for no more.
And just as quickly as I had found it, I lost it.
From the wrong side of that tiny, fogged frame that forced me to watch this magnificent world get smaller and smaller, I said good-bye to the only place I've ever felt home. I said good-bye to the friends I made, to the memories created, to the adoration and ardor I felt in a place I'd not known for all of my life, yet could never, ever forget.
I had no choice but to say good-bye.
