leaving in my heart.

Listening to: Drifter by Decemberadio.
Quote love: "A book is the only place in which you can examine a fragile thought without breaking it, or explore an explosive idea without fear it will go off in your face. It is one of the few havens remaining where a man's mind can get both provocation and privacy." Edward P. Morgan

  

It's funny, the things that make me want to leave. A taste of Dutch cheese or chocolate, a picture of Paris, memories of my summer, reading Jane Austen or C.S. Lewis, the wind blowing that, somehow, smells like England, the lesson of French I took this morning. 

My mom came back from Europe on Sunday. She told us stories...visiting Hilversum, the town we used to live in, walking around Amsterdam, going down to our village in England. With every word I wanted to leave. I love Europe: how close everything is, the cobblestone streets outside our old house, biking everywhere, open-air markets twice a week, inexpensive fresh flowers, the languages, all the different cultures immersed in one place. I miss it.