Dear London,
You and I have a very long history. We met over 15 years ago. At the time, I was working in one of the most dangerous warzones I’d ever been in, and I came to visit a friend for a week or so. It wasn’t love at first sight, but maybe infatuation? Every day for over a month, I woke up and saw a large armed man parked at the elevator on my way to the gym. So meeting you felt like I was finally able to breathe. After living with the drone of war and the landscape of rubble, I was flooded and overwhelmed with your beauty. Streets I could actually walk down, cafes I could sit in, flower stalls and buskers everywhere. I got to go to the bougiest gym, stopping to get a coffee on the way. The sounds of bombs and gunfire a distant past, I almost didn’t know what to do with myself, so naturally I did it all. I experienced a uniquely romanticized side of you. I went to Notting Hill and visited all the spots from the movie, strolling the Portobello Road Market, the famous blue door and the bookstore. I rode black cabs and took pictures in red phone booths. I went to Big Ben and Buckingham Palace. I discovered my love for All Saints, the clothing store, and spent too much money shopping but looked dazzling in my beaded dresses and leather jackets for nights out in town, only to wake up the next morning and rush to the local pub for a greasy spoon breakfast. It was a full experience that left me with a longing to return.
Obviously I came back, and we ended up living together for a year. Basically, I moved in and you witnessed a few of my life-changing experiences. An engagement that led me to shop for a wedding that didn’t last. Endless essays I wrote that I no longer remember but led to a master’s degree that did not prove helpful in my career when I had one. But no matter what I was going through, you were a stable and predictable presence in my life. I could rely on you for the wild night bus rides, the markets on Saturdays and the blocked roads when a football match was on at the Arsenal stadium near my home.
At some point, I was ready to end our relationship, but I kept coming back. Not for you necessarily but because you were home to those I loved. My chosen family. Funny that I couldn’t see them without seeing you. It was something I had to make peace with, so I changed my attitude towards you and found a way to enjoy your company. Sometimes that meant staying in the same neighborhood for the duration of my visit, finding a cozy cafe where I could spend my mornings. Other times it meant popping in for two nights. Enough time to say hi and not enough time to feel any resentment.
You gave me concerts, nights out, and shopping trips with friends, musicals and fancy dinners. But most importantly, spending time with those I love. Staying up until 3 am on my friend’s couch, ordering takeaway (I could always rely on you for great Lebanese food), watching movies and talking about everything and nothing. Through you, I’ve stayed close to my friends throughout the various stages of our lives. I’ve gotten to meet new friends and explore new neighborhoods along the way.
This last visit was proof of everything you can still give me. After a break of a couple of years, I got to come back and reconnect with my chosen family, to experience being an auntie. I got the full experience, from waking up to baby shark doo doo doo, to school pick up and drop off, to negotiating snacks. I used to come to you for sample sales but this time I came to you to read bedtime stories, give piggyback rides and have nice dinners. I was filled with love in a different way than I’ve known before. I couldn’t have asked for more.
I know I was different this time and maybe you didn’t recognize me. You are full of energy and life and as an introvert who now prefers a simpler life, I was happy to see you and happy to leave, knowing I’ll be back. I love you enough to come back for what you have to offer — whether my chosen family remains with you or not. Our relationship has evolved and has been strong enough to weather a lifetime of change. Maybe after 15 years it’s enough to have a place where you know exactly what to expect, exactly how you’ll be treated.