I know this looks a bit creepy, so let me just clarify: we did not eat duck for dinner that day.
Last weekend we packed all of our stuff again and moved out of the house. Now we are living with my boyfriends parents, in a house that is (luckily) so big that everyone can still be comfortable. We even have our own place up in the attic, with our couch, books, television and our recordplayer. Ever since we heard we had to move out, we have been contemplating what our next move will be, which will likely take place in two or three months. In the mean time it’s so nice to have a place to crash when you’re still figuring things out and for that I’m very grateful.
The decision process is a constant battle between the exciting (but loud) city with new opportunities and our quiet and beautiful hometown, close to sea, were we feel so at home with friends and family. I remember when I was sixteen, sitting in my bedroom, dreaming about getting out. To explore the world. And believe me, I still want to! But I have done the living in the city part and… well, I’m not so sure anymore if that is what I want to do for the next year. The rest of the world will always be there, ready to be explored, right?
Decisions, decisions… I (we) have never been good with those. Especially this one is turning out to be a little bit more difficult for us. And when you look at the above pictures (I took them two days ago during one of our walks)… can you really blame me?