What a blessing and a curse it is to be constantly missing something. Someone, too, but this time I will not be talking about people who are usually easier to miss than places. It recently occurred to me that even if I live someone else’s dream life, I am never fully content with what I have at the moment. I used to blame feeling this way on the immaturity of my peers or having to cope with my personal hardships (even both at the same time). These are all valid reasons, but the big part of feeling this way is also looking back to what I used to have.

What a blessing it is to have seen and experienced so much throughout so little time. What a curse it is to not be able to have my favorite bits of that at my fingertips. 

I just want my summer to always be the way it is in the Baltics.

And every sea to be as blue as the Adriatic is.

I would love for all the rivers to be as wide as Hudson separating Manhattan and Brooklyn.

I just want to be able to reach the forest from the old town in the span of listening to 5 songs.

And to have mountains by the seaside at all times.

I would love to book Broadway tickets last minute and still get great seats.

I just want to eardrop on conversations in trolleybuses.

And have to pay 3 to 4 times less for a scoop of gelato than I do now.

I would love to be in a position of always daring to dream big because it does make sense here.

I just want to combine 3 places I have lived in, so I would not be missing out on what only they can offer.

What a curse it is to be missing all those parts that are scattered around the world and will never be gathered together. What a blessing it is to know that whenever I go back to one of them, I will get to experience what I was missing the most at a certain point.