Suddenly I began to think strangely, and when I walked by a dirty old pigeon, I couldn't help to think: "someone loves you. I love you," and before I knew it, every little bird and gliding seagull was receiving a small piece of my heart without even knowing it. And all those worn out buildings from centuries ago, the sidewalks and the lights- I couldn't stop for them, to take a ganger and just stand there until every little detail was etched into my brain, but I wanted too. I wanted to hold onto them.
So I walked into the art store to buy some paper and colored pencils for the last time. This part didn't phase me as much as when I took another trip to Mark and Spencers, only to find that my favorite raviolis were not in stock, nor was the mac n' cheese. I found a chicken and pasta dish, which ended up being amazing- and it made me feel the gloomy concept of never eating another freshly prepared, microwavable meal again.
But then I remembered my family, and my friends. I left because I wanted to start over, I didn't feel like I fit anywhere- I just wanted to get away and live my own life without the realization that I didn't have what everyone else did. And now I know just how much I love them all,- how I couldn't live without them even if I tried. I don't care anymore that my dad isn't related to me, or that my mom is ill, or that my best friend isn't a young college student like me. Who cares if I have a relationship with two different families, despite our never having a single drop of blood to tie us together? It's so obvious how much more love and kindness I get than your average kid, and even though I feel alone and uncertain about things, I just need to keep telling myself that I have a rock, a foundation that will always be there for me, no matter what.
Coming to Cork was the second best decision I have ever made in my life. It may not have solved my problems of what I want to do in the long run, but I've come to terms with who I am as a person, and the people who have shaped me into what I am today. I love my family, more than anything in the world, and I'm so happy that I can finally say that. I've traveled over the English channel, got lost in Paris, rode my first train into a little beach town, saw my first Irish cow, walked the hide tide of Bantry, pushed my way through the streets of Dublin, burnt my tongue on my first droplets of apple cider, and ate pigs hooves all in three months. If that didn't change my life, then I might as well be shot.