It is unbelievable that November has come, without warning. A friend posted a picture this morning, showing the first thin layer of snow in Sweden. I feel so jealous; November has always been white in my mind, perfect for the beginning of a fairy tale. It never happened in real life, though.
London is still in autumn, as leaves are piling on every street and people starts to put on black coats and warm-colored scarfs. I have finally got used to catching a red bus to school, regardless of the weather. On sunny days, early morning or noon, I enjoy sitting on the upper deck alone and seeing through the window. The city extends like a painting; guys are shaking hands at the bus stops, girls are struggling with their hairstyles in the wind, and couples are kissing by the river. London comes to life in the sunshine.
On rainy days, conversely, the sky looks miserable, rain drops lingering on the window like shards of glass. And if it gets dark, everything outside the bus seems unknowable. It would be better to sit with a friend at this moment, a very good one, someone I care about a lot, because there are always words that I find it hard to speak under normal circumstances, which seem appropriate to tell on this special occasion.
London has changed me a lot, in ways that I never expected. Thanks to the lovely friends I met here, who taught me to tell the people I’m close to that I love and care for them. “Love” is a strong word for me, but I do meet people that I love, deep in my heart, among whom there is someone who shares so many similarities with me, just like another me. Sometimes I feel that I am too lucky. Now I am afraid of the future, which is definitely unpredictable. It would be heart-breaking to say farewell to those amazing people who have been inspiring me a lot. Mais, c’est la vie.