Right from the beginning, I know that there are limits, and when you walk into somebody else’s territory, you must be very careful. So I did, just so I can spend time in this beautiful place, even if I’m not supposed to be here. So I wouldn’t be discovered. I tried my best not to be disruptive. I quietly tended my cuts when I tried to wander around picking flowers. I bit my lips hard when I shivered in the cold. I find shelter whenever the shelter’s empty, I leave right before its owner returns. I only touched what’s inside, I don’t bring anything with me. I leave the place as I have found it. Even if sometimes, I thought the shelter whispered asking me to stay.
I thought I can do this all my life. And it will be alright. And it will be enough. Because what choice do I have. But it gets to you. All the fear and all the pain and all the longing. All the looking out, looking away, looking from a distance. Sometimes, all I ask is one day- one beautiful day to be free, and to dance around, and to not care. Not care at all. It hurts to admit how much this really hurts, after all this time. I hope that I had that one day. I hope that we just had that one beautiful day. I hope that you had let me. I hoped that you just gave me a chance. Even if I know I couldn’t take care of this town as well as it is being taken cared of now, I hope that I had that chance. I’ve never found a place like this. And maybe Paris or Skaftafell or Grjotagja will pale in comparison. And maybe then we won’t have to dream about a one-way ticket to Iceland.