Still in 2014

Let me preface this by saying, I am not unhappy. I have no regrets. We are hopefully moving in to our new house soon and there are job developments on the horizon and I am beginning to feel a little more integrated into the university and like I am finding my place.

But Cardiff still calls to me. It is a physical ache in my chest. I try not to think about it. It feels so utterly and completely ridiculous to feel this about a place. About a city. It’s stupid, but its very real.

It is a year today since I left. I thought it wouldn’t hurt anymore but it makes me well up just thinking about it. Its September and it’s getting a little cooler and I think about wearing scarves and jumpers and walking around Roath park. I think about the night I met Kate in Wetherspoons and got drunk and she went to watch Lee Evans and I walked home on my own and stopped in at Winter Wonderland and went on the chair-o-planes alone, blasting Frank Turner in my ears. I think about how safe I always felt. I think about my little flat and the way the sun would stream through the window. I think about the shops that I could just hop on a bus to, or the lovely welcoming pubs. I think about the people, but less so in all honesty. I spent quite a lot of time doing my own thing in Cardiff, especially in the last year. I think about trotting down Albany Road, buying wool, drinking coffee on my own in Coffee #1. I think about the botanical gardens and the lake and the nice little Indian man who lived next door and used to let me use his washing line. I miss the hustle and bustle.

I don’t know if this will ever go away. I don’t know if visiting will make it worse. I remember being in my first year at university and feeling like this in reverse, missing home so so much, but that was more about people than places.

I remember years ago, maybe the last year of undergrad or the firts year of PhD, walking down Salisbury Road, alone, headphones in and the sun shining through the trees. I was happy and content and secure after such a long time of being uncertain. I remember thinking about how when I applied to University there was only one place I wanted to go, even though I had never even visited it. I knew I wanted to be in Cardiff. I remember walking down that street that day and thinking “Here I am. I did this.” I was so proud and so happy. I still miss you Cardiff. Ridiculously so. I don’t know how to get over you.