Sitting by myself, the lights on the christmas tree by the corner of the room and the candle burning on the table while the red wine warms me up, reminds me about a light that should never stop burning, lighting through the darkest hours. This light that strikes thunderstorm on heavy skies. The light that burst in laughter on the most ordinary things on a simple afternoon on a day of no importance.
It is hard to believe I am reaching the end of a journey. Took me ten years to get here, and I could sit down and talk to you about how many scars London has tattooed on my skin always in flesh. I could waste my time describing my heartache, the troubles I went through trying to find my way home. It always seemed so far away. It always seemed impossible to reach that dead end, when either my body and soul would speak at the same time, on the same language: Go home!
For someone like me, going home, would always be the end of the fun. Like as a child when I had to put the bonfire down, and close the book of adventures of the day, lost in the little forest my grandmother used to own in the 80's. Going home, sounded like the end of the fairytale, the television always on, the volume so high that we could not hear each other over supper.
I am not a child anymore, as much the little girl still dancing with her wild ways inside me. I am a grown up woman, and I have dreams, and the light got bigger inside, I have the obligation to share it with the ones who means the most to me. My family. They may seem to be foreigners to me, other times, I feel I don't speak their language anymore, this is way this woman that grown so much in my body, needs to go back home, to learn this ancient language again. This is why the woman who is so brave and so strong, also surrender to the kindness misery and melt in pain and despair. She begs to the child: go home!
The child twist and say; London is fun. But there is no point in succeeding alone, non in loosing either.
I have faced the darkest side of loneliness to know I could survive any hurricane with my treasure safe under my heart, I have seen the ecstasy face of happiness, that I was scared to die and lose such a luminosity. But I don't want to grow afraid of loosing or gaining.
We born and die every day.