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I have been feeling viciously homesick the past few days...to an unbearable degree. Yesterday I put everything in my life on pause and went to Oxford Street, which I barely go to, away from my daily life here, and just walked around with my iPod on pretending like I was here in London on vacation. I was able to partially convince myself, except for the fact that Raine was missing (if I was on vacation in London she'd be with me). Today I stayed in bed reading all day - not academic reading, but a novel. Again, escape from reality.

The thing is, I know everyone thinks I'm nuts, and don't get me wrong, I absolutely LOVE London. It is one of the only cities I would want to live in other than Kuwait. But I was having a conversation the other day with some friends from my programme and one girl, from New York, put it perfectly. She said no matter how great London is, we each have our own lives elsewhere and we are not connected to this city the way we are in our own worlds. It is where we live, and no matter how much we do love the city, it is not our place. It is not our Life, with a capital L. And the reason we are unable to, or rather simply don't, connect with it is because for one, we just don't have the time. We are so engrossed in our academic work that we really don't have the time or energy to invest in anything other than studying. But at the same time, for me at least, I just don't have the mental/emotional energy to do it either. This is the third time in my life I have moved. And now that I am older, I just want to be back in my world, my Life, with a capital L.

Laying in bed today, a Saturday, I thought about Thursday in my world, in my Life in Kuwait (let's say it's a non-chalet weekend!). Waking up in the morning and having a cup of tea while enjoying the prospect of an actual weekend. I would get dressed, get in my VW, drive around, run some errands, kill time till lunch. Then I'd go home and enjoy the fact that it's one of the few days Dad and I are both home for lunch together. We'd eat in the dining room and then sit in the TV room for a couple of hours catching up on each other's week, and just talking. About life, Kuwait, society, politics, about our work, about people we know, the latest updates on my friends (many of whom he knows in person but most of whom he knows well enough by name from these countless stories), recounting old family stories filled with loving memories of Mom, and having long talks about history, a passion of mine which he shares, and which makes me realize that no matter how much I study there is no better source for me than my Dad. By the late afternoon P will be done from work so I'll go start getting ready for our evening/night out. In my room, which is probably as big as my flat here in London but with all the comforts of home, I put something on DVD (usually "Frasier") for background noise while I take a shower and get dressed. Then P picks me up and we head out to do one of the million things we love doing together, talking about so much and laughing and listening to music while stuck in traffic. By dinner we'd meet up with the gang at our usual dinner spot or at someone's house or once in a while all go to a barbeque or party. And it doesn't matter how late I get in because tomorrow is Friday and I can sleep in as late as I want.

I know it must all seem so mundane, but that is the world that I fantasize about. My simple, happy, exciting, comfortable world filled with all the people, and THE person, I love most in this world.