Edinburgh I Love You...

I leave today. It's twenty past midnight... I have only a few hours left of being at home, in England and close to all of the things that I know and love. It's a strange feeling. I know, for example, that the last month or so I've become slow, sluggish in the manner than I do things. I haven't wanted to complete the task as if on some psychological level, that will stop me from leaving. 


But it's not like I don't want to go. I do. I want to go to UNC and I want to see America. I want to meet the people. I want to experience something that's so far from green hillsides and grey seas and European humour. I want to live and breath another culture and I'm going to America. So why am I still so terrified? Why am I still so reluctant? Because logically I know that I want to do this. But subconsciously my actions (in hindsight) are like a petulant child dragging their heels in the sand whilst their determined parent takes them away from the ice cream stand. 


I'm going to miss everyone. I already do in many ways. I miss being at 2/2 Marchmont Rd, walking the two minutes to lectures and tutorials. I miss wondering who I'll run into today and whether or not I can bribe them into Starbucks with promises of future tea parties. I miss my flatmates - Lydia, Claudia and Mineta - and coming home at 3am to bake cookies and eat paste with pepper and butter. I miss complaining about who bought the bleach last and whether or not it's bad to go to the Italian for the third time in a week (albeit for a different pasta). I miss the cold breeze in my bedroom and the strange off-green of the walls and the multi-coloured paint throughout the flat. I miss knowing that everyone has to walk passed my house to get home and therefore has no excuse not to drop in for tea. I miss Holt and Zoe, my wonderful, irreplaceable friends. I miss The Earl of Marchmont but even more The Argyle and visits at the table from Aslan and his Newfoundland companion. I miss seeing dogs in the Meadows and thinking 'awwwww puuuuppppyyyy' and contemplating names for whichever hound I get later. I'm fairly convinced of the name 'Think'. Imagine calling 'Think' across a park. It'd be wonderful. I miss the way that you can move between New Town and Old Town. I miss the Jeykll and Hyde City and all the places in between. I miss all of you amazing people that I've met there. 


Do I really want to leave?


I know I'll be back. I'm not ever gone for that long. But think about how much we've changed in the last couple years and I wonder how much I'll miss out on. I'll miss your 21sts. I'll miss any and every hook up. I'll miss your nights out and your nights in. I'll miss the walks home from Drouthys. I'll miss the random anglicised Thanksgivings and Zoe's mum coming for visits. I'll miss the concerts with musoc. I'll miss the run up for tour. I'll miss the banter over December exams and the panic as people debate the pros and cons of the library. I'll miss talking about teachers and how attractive we find them. I'll miss talking about how awesome Simon Malpas is and how much we wish Lee Spinks taught more. I'll miss arguing over who takes the better courses and whether or not philosophy really teaches you anything. I'll miss the magic tricks and the beer pong and the ghost tour makeup and the laughter. I'll miss Tenents-man and Brew Dogs. I'll miss hugs outside Teviot and LEAF - oh nature just rejected you. 


I wish I was going to be with you. I wish time-turners were real and I could do both. But instead I'm leaving in seven  hours and I love you. 


I'm so excited but I really really will miss you all.


Je serai poète et toi poésie,
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