I woke up early this morning, which isn’t like me.

I already knew it would be a weird day. As I sat with my tablet, like others take the newspaper, I noticed the sorrow that had been in my throat since I had opened my eyes. I shed a tear, than another… Tears are like that, they come in herds, once you see one, you see them all.

Chéri noticed my crying, and asked if something was wrong.  It would have been long to explain, and hard to understand, so I just shook my head and said it was out of nowhere…

• You work too much…

Yeah, I do.

But something told me it was all the fault of my walk in Svendborg yesterday.

I had Googled Svendborg several times before. But unfortunately, I didn’t know I should treat Denmark like I interact with Danes… With reserve, patience and tying bonds gradually. Pippa and I are about to celebrate our first year of knowing eachother, and we never spoke live. Not saying it has to be that slow with all Danes… I just mean that, from my experience, Danes just don’t rush anything when it comes to friendship. And that’s all good. Because it made a single text message sent overseas for New Year’s Eve extra special to my heart…

Anyway, back to Svendborg. I had heard of Svendborg, seen it on pictures and I had imagined a whole lot about it… And yesterday, after what can only be caused by a bubble of some sort to my brain, I opened Google, and decided to use streetview to go walk around town…

It was too much, too fast. It is a beautiful city, and I won’t try to describe it, for I wouldn’t honor its charm. But “walking” along the streets and the alleys, watching the colorful shops and houses, I wanted more and more to be there. I spent some time by the shore too, missing the wind on my face.

I thought about visiting Aalborg too, but I was afraid to come upon a friendly face. We’re just not there yet in our friendship journey… Although I did drop by his neighbourhood once or twice when I was sure he was out of town. I stopped in front of the dark orange brick home with the white and blue garage… I thought about picking a flower from the beautiful yard, but it would have been rude.

I wondered what it would feel like to knock at the door. Wondered if we’d ever get to that point…  Me standing outside, a little shaky, him being somewhere inside…

And today, my walk in Svendborg is killing me a little…

I think it woke up the younger Cyranny. I like her a lot, don’t be mistaken. But I know I can’t follow her anymore. Young Cyranny would book the cheapest flight and leave. She would probably try the new trand of “get housed in return of a few chores” travelers. She’d meet locals, learn the language, eat homemade usual food, even if it is not fancy or super exotic, because that’s what Denmark is about. She would embark trains without knowing what’s waiting at the end of the rails…

Older Cyranny can’t do that.

Oh well, what more is there to say…?

I probably just work too much….