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It has officially been five months since I left London which is about equivalent to the amount of time I spent living there and if I'm being honest, it has been the biggest struggle to settle back into reality. My lifestyle the first five months of this year compared to these recent five months have been drastically different. For one, I don't hop out of bed in the morning to get the kettle started for some tea and porridge - instead I'm throwing in some leaves and fruits in my Nutribullet for a hearty green juice. Instead of wrapping up in layers and layers and pulling on some boots, I'm throwing on some denim cutoffs and sandals and heading out for the day. And instead of rummaging for my Oyster card as I enter the underground, I'm looking for my keys and hopping into my Honda. It took time to adjust to the London lifestyle but I'm sitting here wondering why it's taking time for me to readjust into a lifestyle I've lived all my life.

It's strange leaving home and coming back realizing nothing has changed. I learned that no matter where I end up in the world and no matter the amount of time I stay away, home and the people that stay in it will always remain a constant. San Diego with it's consistently perfect weather, friends with the same old problems. For the most part, everything stays exactly as you left it. I praised home. I loved the weather, the beach, almost everything it had to offer regardless of the fact that my heart was always longing to be elsewhere. I knew how blessed I was to call this place home and I still do. Upon returning I kept questioning myself as to why I was so bothered when everything I appreciated about home was exactly the way I liked it. The weather was the same. The beach was the same. The people were the same. Everything was the same but then I came to the conclusion that it's me that isn't.

Normally, I am the type of person to get over things unusually fast because I'm aware of accepting the things I can't change and seeing the good in any situation I've been put in. It's been quite a while but not a day goes by without me daydreaming back to what my life once was. I'm aware of how unhealthy it is to live in the past but I just can't sway my thoughts from it. I miss London so much. Hell, I just miss the thrill of traveling. It almost feels as though I've left a part of me in every city we set foot on because I am definitely not feeling as whole as I once was. Sometimes I'm scared that moving back to London won't make me happier. I don't actually know what will at this point. It's funny, you go to a new country hoping to "find yourself" but I've actually never felt more lost. But I'm embracing the feeling of not knowing and just going with the flow of things because in the end I know that where ever I am at the moment is exactly where I should be. 
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