The show goes on...

I am writing this from the dining room table of the first floor of Eerste Atjehstraat 69.



Outside the window, I see a blue sky, a large blue winebego parked opposite my house, and the owner of the local cafe unstacking his chairs outside, preparing for a good day of trade I imagine. 



It's 9:34am on my last day in Amsterdam as a resident.



Tomorrow, when I wake up, I will be another traveller, passing through, without an idea of when I will be back in Amsterdam, The Netherlands or even Europe.



In an hour, my mattress will be taken from the house.



So will the 8 boxes and single suitcase of belongings that I have accumulated over the last 3 years.



Then I will return my mobile phone and travel card to the office.



And finally, come home and my bed will get taken away.



And herein, that becomes the end of my life in Amsterdam.



I will have one last dinner with my friends and then go to an airport hotel.



I am not sure what else to write, except that I am not sure how to feel.



I'm 30,  unemployed,  single and soon to be homeless - but as my dear friend Sarah said to me last night, all of this was my choice and that's what's important.



And damn it, that is what is important.



It was important to me 3 years ago that I had options and that I was allowed to choose from all those options with my best interests at heart. I wanted to broaden my world, not shrink it. When I went out into the big bad world, little did I know that after having a buffet of options spread out infront of me, the one that I would ultimately take would lead me back home.



One of the most resounding feelings that I have at the moment is an immense amount of pride. After landing here with no job, no friends, and hardly any money, I leave with almost 3 years experience at an international firm, a varied and fascinating circle of friends ... and still no money, but my life is certainly richer in other areas.



I travelled when it was possible, I shared times with old friends and new, I made stuff (some I liked and enjoyed doing, some I hated making and hated putting my name to), I ate a lot of good food and a lot of bad food, and I met a LOT of people.



I lived a  dream. At times it seemed more like a nightmare because it wasn't everything it was cracked up to be, but I can now say "I lived in Europe." and what is important is that everytime I say that I remember that I was the one that made it happen, and I can hold on to this achievement.



Now that I've ticked that one off the list, it's time to keep moving forward, and keeping ticking more dreams off the list.



So, let the show go on.



Leaving is hard, leaving is sad, leaving is confusing... but there is a quiet sense of faith inside of me that knows that leaving is clearing a path for growth and more rich experiences.



Goodbye Amsterdam.