It’s about being torn. Torn between two cities. Torn between moving or staying. Taking the job or not. Committing or not. Taking the leap or not. 

Not all things are this hard. Many things are simply just black and white. An easy decision for one person may be life changing for the next. 

This was what made me move abroad to start with, the realisation that if I didn’t, something deep inside me would die. It had been a dream for so long to move abroad to an English speaking country. I kept talking about it and never dared to think about it seriously. I had too much keeping me back. But finally I couldn’t bear the thought of the dream dying, the one I’d carried around in my chest for so long. I knew that it would torture me not to go, not to live that dream. I knew that at the end of my life I’d be so disappointed if I never even tried. I weighed the losses, the things I could bear and the things I could not and I made the choice. I knew that the decision to leave would kill something else inside of me. Sometimes choices are like that. Bittersweet, where the pay-off always has a little hint of sorrow.