Dear,

It always ends up happening. No matter how hard I try to stretch time, and how I fill my days with joyous moments, I always get to face that terrible night when the sun has set for the last time on Copenhagen, and I know the next time I’ll see that happening, it will be somewhere where it isn’t half as exciting.

I am sitting by the window, watching the young and young at heart biking by, on their way to some fun evening of eating, drinking, and sharing good times with friends… I can tell by their slighty fancier way of dressing. They are carefree, and don’t have to worry about leaving.

I packed and repacked my bags to be ready tomorrow morning. I enjoyed a fancy meal and walked a bit through the neighbourhood… I recalled all the good memories I accumulated, once more, to sort and reminisce for the months to come.

I wish I had clever thoughts to leave for you before I go, but I guess I’m just not that witty.

I would be the worst liar if I said I wouldn’t miss you. I already do. If anything, I’ll miss you more than I ever did so far. I wish you could be at the airport, to give me a clumsy hug and tell me that going home is the right thing to do. But, as usual, I’ll just look around at the gate, recording every last memory, and leave like a big girl.

I’ll tear up in the plane again. I just know it.

People don’t get it, and I don’t care…

I just hope you won’t forget the good times. I hope you won’t let yourself forget me… And ultimately, I hope you’ll hope I’ll come back again.

Everytime is an adventure with you, always different, but always memorable. And with just a little luck, this one wasn’t the last.

Until next time…

Yours, Danishly.

C.