When I left Australia, I promised myself to come back. I haven’t been able to keep that promise up until now, so I wouldn’t do the same to Sweden. I don’t want to fool myself. I don’t want to have such a high expectation just to be disappointed at the end.
I don’t know if I would come back to Sweden.
The only thing I know is that it doesn’t matter anymore.
Coming back or not, I’m going to cherish every single memory I made here: those walks through Lund’s cobblestoned streets, the smell of Kanelbulle whenever I went to a café and say: “Hej, jag skulle ha en kaffee och en kanelbulle, tack”, those back and forth visits to the hospital to give birth to my second born, those interviews with the Swedish newspapers, that night when I saw Aurora in Abisko, even that mundane announcement in Pågatåg: “Nästa station, Lund Central. Nästa, Lund Central.”
And that was why I really prepped myself for the D-day.
Prior to my departure, I revisited my favorite spots in Lund. I created a new playlist on Spotify, full with my favorite Swedish songs. I breathed in every thing I would miss about Sweden and about Lund particularly. I was busy meeting all my friends here to thank them for the friendship and for making Lund a home far away from home.
So when the suitcases were packed, and the new journey was in sight, I thought I would be ready.