A Wave of Nostalgia

Last night when I was laying in bed I had an overwhelming wave of "homesickness" for my room in Wales. I missed everything, from the obnoxiously squeaky door to the way it smelled to the horrible karaoke going on in the pub out back. It was an unexpected reminder that a piece of me is still in that place, that I have been permanently changed by it. It almost hurts, but it's a happy pain, if that makes sense. And although living in memory is generally ill-advised, but I don't see the harm in visiting every once in a while.

 

This is my Happy Place.

Love, Brontë