“ been there, done that” seems to be a common phrase for people of this country, or people of this country I’ve met. It’s an age thing I reckon, but is it?
In the last four years there have been so very many things I did I’d never done before and it fills me with content to know that I have no idea of how many fabulous first times lay before me.
Meeting a beautiful girl, who two weeks later was a beautiful guy and happy as the one And as the other.
Being told to jump the loo queue and come forward as there were urinals ( I was packing that night and I was flat chested).
A fantastic first.
Being told “ You are by far the most wonderful person I know” in the morning.
Very much a first.
and kissing a girl with pink hair with our feet in the rough sea and our toes in the sand.
That was a first too.
There are so many things I’d done before I came here but they were suddenly different and new.
The first time I went to the doctor here and realized my English was so good that I could easily describe to the doctor that I couldn’t hear properly and that this was driving me insane.
The first time I made love to an English man…ha.. it was true, it wasn’t so good at all.
There are countless things that have made my life shit and shitter, and London is always a struggle, it never loves you it never hugs you…. To get embraced you have to fight and threaten it. Reluctantly then it will gives in for a brief beautiful moment. Moments like the one when I first tasted Aloo Papdi Chaat and smelled Ealing Road. It’s hard to say whether these moments are worth the struggle, but when they occur it feels they do.
Karina’s magic curl that night in Hampstead Heath. An eternal memory.
When I cried and realized for the first time that I’d made friends here who care about me and who’d miss me if I went away again.
When my taste in fashion returned to me. When my confidence, after a good two and a half year vacation, slowly crept back into me.
When Ruth said “ But you didn’t go back to him this time. You could have, but you didn’t.”
I’m so happy that my brain has so much storage.
When will I next do something for the first time? Will I have a conversation in Italian? Will I tell my mum I know?
I don’t know but I know I “haven’t been there and I haven’t done that”.