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I dont know if I am going back to Denmark anymore.

Today I grew up.
I left all my childish dreams and I became an adult.
But, how hard it is to leave this dream go?
Why does it hurt so bad?
I don’t have a boyfriend there anymore, some globetrotter friends who will likely leave soon. I don’t even have a job.

So what am I missing?
Besides magic melancholy…I guess it is all my mental fairy tale.
Finding a job is hard, and I hardly believe the possibility to get to know a highly-skilled-flirter Dane, my condicio sine qua non. (ja, maybe also to find a dane who understands latin (this was mean)) Weird that in the country of the fairy tales, people aren’t able to dream, not even for the time of a chat.

I still love that country.
But the possibilities it can offer me are not enough to make me give up for better opportunities, elsewhere.

I‘ve always been a bit Danish inside, even before getting there…so, basically, I will keep on being this way.
And if I feel like keep alive a piece of my fairy tale…

I may take a plane every now and then, if my nostalgia gets irresistible
I may decide to keep on eating oat, milk and dry grape for breakfast
I may wear a Hummer sweater
I may get drunk
I may ask my guests to take off their shoes getting in my place, and to wash dishes after the dinner I invited them to
I may light candles all over my place, arranging my new nest with Scandinavian design furniture, no matter the country I will be living in.
I may install a multiroom audio system to listen to Mikael Simpson even in my bathroom


Denmark was my charming prince.
I should have known that, as any other charming prince, it doesn’t exist.