My sails have been in a whirlwind for the past couple of weeks.
I have officially finished my degree and moved back to my home town. I have packed up the room I made my own for the past year. Saying goodbye to my three incredible housemates in the process.
And said goodbye to a city I have been lucky enough to call home the past three years.
The day I was moving all my stuff out, I gave my dad a guided tour of Sheffield. I remembered my first wander in to the city sometime in September 2011, as the sun shone and Mumford and Sons played on my iPod – not knowing where to turn but doing my best to take it all in.
To my delight it was sunny this time, too. I took dad to a place near the train station where you can look out over the city. We could have our lunch there. One last time I could take in Sheffield.
Yes, I will be returning for graduation but I knew there wouldn’t be time to say goodbye properly. Not like this.
The same breeze that was cooling me down was making the clouds stroke along the silhouette of the city. I felt connected to the streets, and to the people walking along them. I couldn’t quite get my head around the fact that this place wouldn’t be home any more. Writing this, I still don’t think I’ve grasped it.
Here I have made friends that I love so much they are like family. I have made memories that make me laugh when I walk down the street, despite odd looks from strangers. And I have made myself. I’ve become more of a person. I have grown, matured and feel comfortable in my skin.
I look at the sun, the sky, and look at Sheffield. I try to say good-bye but the word can’t come. It still feels like home.