It could be the fact that I'm more emotional when I'm on my period, or the relief from the general awfulness that is me during PMS, but I've never been one to attribute feelings purely to hormones. It's getting out of Ireland, probably.
And praying more, going to a good church last Sunday, my Russian alliance, feeling closer to God. His blessing shining on my face.
And it is good to feel the sun again.
It's the warmth of the weather, the castle on the hill, the clear air, the Scottish brogue, the exceeding kindness of strangers, the religious conversations with random roommates where I feel I've done just a little something by actually trying. The (possibly erroneous) notion that maybe that's why God is blessing me. The desire to do better, to be better.
It's finding Coronation Chicken and Wotsits again. It's postcards arriving and looking forward to sending more. It's loving people and knowing they're temporary in a botanical garden where everything is so alive. It's picnics by rivers and soft rejections by well trained dogs. It's cats appearing from nowhere and hobbit-haired bagpipers and attractive skaters with stag tattoos. It's cute shops and markets. Birds and moths and motif wrangling. It's windows with no screens, a single star in the sky, and a stopped clock pointing second to the right. It's honking car parades, copious balloons, and "Don't Stop Believin'."
It's eyeliner and selfies and '80s aesthetic with a Taylor Swift song for every occasion. It's cheeky Nandos, museums, and taking our time. Letting off the pressure to do and be and create, and just living. It's missing American summer but looking forward to an English one.
It's seeing the water in the distance, and then up close on a shore-view drive. A ten-hour drive with good music and a good friend. It's a bus with leg room and a song stuck in my head. Why can't we just be better than we were yesterday? It's knowing that we can. It's changing my ideas and learning that's okay.
It's looking forward. To London and more theatre than we can afford. To seeing a new friend and to the hope of running into a certain busker. To simple things like a hot shower and hostel breakfast for a pound. To things beyond, like a cat to cuddle and the idyllic sound of a place called Peacehaven. It's wanting to go everywhere yet being happy where I am.
It's tiny pinpricks of nervousness soothed by the surety of seeing old friends again soon. It's the proximity of a family I love dearly. It's days-long conversations about the novels we'll someday write. It's giggling reading fanfiction in the middle of the night under the same covers I wept under nights before when everything was a bit too much. It's knowing that I still have a lot of issues but being too content to dwell on them.
It's meeting people who drop everything and travel the world. It's talking to Canadians about our insane love of Tim Hortons. It's comparing travel tales and realizing how fun and beautiful, how blessed and completely crazy my life has been so far. It's having plans, having no clue, and the certainty that if I left right now, the whole trip would still have all been worth it. A certainty I didn't have before Edinburgh. It's gratitude. It's the hope of someday returning to the people who love me the most. It's dreams and the determination to really achieve them this time, but more than that, the knowledge that everything will be okay. No matter what happens. It's trust in God and hope that sustains me. It's looking forward to a wedding that won't happen for a year and already having a card picked out. It's wanting to embrace each and every one of you! It's unyielding belief in the power of friendship. It's rejecting that tiny wriggling doubt that says to worry, that happiness won't last.
It's 11:11 and I can't think of a thing to wish for.
Whatever it is,
And I am very,