The finding of a place called home is not something easily to consider.
And I don’t even know if I can call it a journey of love.
It is a journey in itself.
The start of this, I believe, is something brave.
I just don’t know how this ends.
Or where I will be.
It is a decision that I need to make.
I don’t know how it will end.
I even don’t know the way to that destination.
Perhaps that is already the destination in itself.
Something I just remembered.
I once told a story to my friend.
A true one, someone that I actually lived and did.
Once I was in Denmark.