I spent most of yesterday wandering around Hyde Park. It's huge! And it's exactly what I picture when I think about JM Barrie writing Peter Pann or Nanny's taking their prams out for a spin. It was absolutely and I think that if I have an extra day, I'll just come back and sit under the branches of this enormous tree for a few hours and then go back to my spot in the tall grasses.
I made a friend over that way, too. His name was Pat (short for Patrick, of course) and he was from Ireland. He'd moved to London in the 60s and was a builder. A lot of times I can't tell if people enjoy talking or if they feel obligated because they have someone there and they think they need to talk with them. I'm sure it the former; however, I've had this complex my whole life about people feeling obligated to pay attention to me. That's not so much true anymore, but I have pages and pages in my kid diaries about how my friends only hung out with me because they felt sorry for me. I eventually convinced myself that wasn't true because I never hung out with people I didn't want to be with, and I needed to assume that was true across the board.
Last night I was walking around with two young women from Australia (I've had three Australians in my room the past two nights; although none of them knew the others previously). They were trying to find a place to eat. It seems to hit me that I'm in London whenever I walk out of buildings and into the streets. It happened again last night and I merrily proclaimed "We're in London!" One girl said "Yes, I guess is hasn't hit me yet" or "It doesn't really feel like it" or some other note of incomprehension. And I brought up something my Dad told me whenever I was wanting to up and move from wherever I was. He's told me repeatedly that "Wherever you go, there you are."
We're ourselves regardless of the context of our situation. We're not going to feel any different (unless there's some physical difference, of course: hot/cold, smog/no smog, etc.), because no matter where we go we're still ourselves. I thought that during the engagement process I would somehow become an adult before I got married because only adults get married. But, I'm coming to realize that no matter how old I am, I'm still my same age. It's just like how on your birthday someone inevitably asks if you feel old, and you never really do. Although this is very depressing for the 15 now 16-year old, it's really nice when you're 22 and thinking of losing your child self is really sad. I don't ever have to grow up. And it's okay to just be me in London. I'm my own favorite travelling companion (sorry, Bear.)