Three Years Of Solitude

And just like that, my life in London is over.

And just like that, my life in London is over. It was a short story, one I really tried to make work, but maybe it was just as they say—London, you’re fantastic. But our timing wasn’t right. 

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Many times I’ve tried to write to you about London. Many letters I wrote and discarded because I could feel a discomfort peaking through my writing. Something I couldn’t express, a sadness hidden beneath the humour. A melancholy behind the honesty. I also didn’t want to be unfair to a city that is great just because it wasn’t made for me.

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Here are some passages from unpublished letters I never sent you.

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“I live in the loveliest London neighbourhood ever. It’s near a beautiful park. I have three wonderful coffee shops, a great organic grocery store, a butcher that’s epic, and even an exciting beauty store that just opened. 

The first time Graham showed me the neighbourhood, I felt like I was in a fairytale. And I cried. Now, two years in, I don’t understand exactly what this is all about and what I…