I’m not ready to leave yet. Not even close.
I want to keep soaking up French phrases like a croissant dipped in hot coffee.
I’m not finished bathing in milk and honey. Not done sleeping in chocolate and wine.
I need to spend every weekend discovering operas, studying paintings, devouring literature.
I haven’t had enough of picnicking by a lake of swans, of lying under a warm Swiss sun, of cutting cheese for a fresh baguette.
How does the rest of the world function without infallible public transport? Without a bank and pharmacy on every corner?
I already miss the sugar-dusted Alps, the meadows of wild poppies, the narrow cobblestoned paths...
They say home is where the heart is. Well if that’s true, then I guess another fragment of mine has just set anchor.
But a part of me also knows that leaving now is for the best.
I dived, fell and shattered, and Switzerland picked up my pieces and nurtured me back to health. She has given me nothing I could ever expect but everything I could ever ask for. A new solution to my Rubik life.
Now, my time has come to be strong and independent. To face the world alone. And I am going to start with Milan...
