It feels like just weeks ago that mon pere dropped me off at my flat, helping me lug bags and suitcases and boxes up the stairs; that I arrived at my new job an hour early; that I got dragged out for supper by friends on my first night; that I spent the first bank holiday weekend sobbing on my bedroom floor because I felt so lonely.
So much has changed since then. And in some ways, nothing has changed at all.
London is huge. It's easy and difficult and friendly and frightening and hot and rainy and exciting and expensive and boring and just like everywhere else and like nowhere else at all, all at the exact same time.
And so much has happened since I've been here. There have been drunken, inappropriate kisses, and sagas stretching on from there. There have been endless meals out, pub quizzes, drinks in beer gardens. There have been museum trips, and coffees in Soho, trips to Borough Market and a stand-out supper in the Shard. Pancake parties, and work drinks; bruised arms, and bruised hearts; new friends, and old friends.
I'm happier here than I have been anywhere other than home. But it's a lonely city. I have my most wonderful, wonderful friends here- girls I've met through blogging, school friends I've reconnected with, university friends who just can't shake me, work friends (one of whom causes more trouble than perhaps they are worth). But without some people, I'd be lost in this big old city of ours.
I adore living here. Part of me can't imagine living anywhere else. The other part can't wait for the day I can escape, back to fresh air and fields.
What will the next year bring? Who knows. New jobs, potentially. New houses, potentially. New friends, potentially. I think my favourite and least favourite part of this city is how unpredictable it can be.
So here's to the next 12 months. London, you're stuck with me for a while yet.