I caught myself grieving yesterday.
I got a brochure in the mail that had pictures of Budapest in it. I left Hungary, and Budapest, the capital I was born and lived for 34 years 32 years ago.
Every time I considered grieving, a song welled up in my head, a song about home and home sickness. It’s about longing, and it’s about regret. And I refused to regret anything. Like Edith Piaf, Je ne regrette rien. No regrets.
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