Page 39 of Eternally London

Then again, so is life.

Why would I expect a life full of love to be void of struggles?Of course there will be hard times. It’s the love that makes the fight worth it.

When I get back to the house, I find London waiting on the porch for me. At the sight of her, I pull the warm night air into my lungs.

I look at her now, a shadow of an angel lit by the glowing lights from the house windows. Still so beautiful yet…so very sad. My chest tightens painfully. I’ve known, but I’ve failed to fully recognize just how much of her strength has drifted away. It’s subtle but completely obvious all at once. She stands a little less tall, her smile smaller, her eyes dimmer, her soul wearier.

So, she needs to go to Africa to find herself, to relight the fierce fire that I know lives within her. Then, so be it. Being without London for a month, worrying about her every second of the day, and missing her deeply won’t be the end of the world. It will suck, but I will get through it. Loving a London who has lost her zest, her ferocious spirit for life, would be devastating.

I just want her to be happy. Who am I to say how she gets back to that place? It’s not my job to judge her. It’s my duty to love her.

“I’m sorry,” I say as soon as I step onto the porch.

“I’m sorry, too,” she says against my chest as we pull one another into an embrace. “I know it’s not fair to you, Loïc. I know it’s not.” She pulls back to look me in the eyes.

“It’s okay,” I answer truthfully because I realize that it is.

Whatever it takes for London to feel whole again is what she should do.

“It’s not,” she whispers with a sad shake of her head. “I know that you’re hurting, too. I know that this year has been rough on you, too. But I don’t know what else to do. This job is scary and exciting. It will take me far away from doctors and medicines and babies that never come. I just need a reset, Loïc. I need to go somewhere far away and do something important. I have to get back to being me. Then, I can come back to you as the person you fell in love with.”

“You are the person I fell in love with.”

“I’m not the same version of her.”

I pull London in tight, kissing her forehead. “I loved you then. I love you now. I’ll love you always. I love every single version of you.”

“I know.” She squeezes me back.

We walk inside.

“So, we’re okay?” she asks.

“Yeah, we’re okay.”

“And Africa?” she questions hopefully.

“I’ll hate every minute that you’re gone, but if you want to go, I think you should.” The words taste bitter as they leave my mouth, but I know they’re the right ones.

London

“It all feels so hopeless, and I feel so empty.”

—London Berkeley

After a quick flight to DC with Loïc where I leave him to spend the weekend with Dixon, Sarah, Evan, and baby Emma, who is already three months old, I board a flight for London. I have a fourteen-hour delay in this gorgeous city, so I get out of the airport to take it in. I send Loïc a selfie of me in front of Big Ben. There’s a similar selfie—with Loïc in it as well during our first trip here—framed and sitting on our mantel at home.

God, that was an eternity ago.

My layover in London flies by, and before I know it, I’m back on the plane. I have a four-hour layover in Rwanda before boarding my final flight to Dar es Salaam, Tanzania.

I step off the plane at my final destination, feeling both excited and nervous. After going through customs, I make my way to baggage claim. I immediately spot an African man holding up a piece of paper withLondon Berkeleywritten on it.

I make my way over to him. “Hi, I’m London.” I hold out my hand to shake his.

“Oh, Miss Berkeley, welcome. I’m Abdu. I will be your guide and translator.”

I love Abdu immediately. His voice is kind, and his smile is bright.

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