The magic can begin

Travelling is probably what I do best. Dragging a huge purple bag through train stations, bus stations, ferry terminals and, occasionally, airports. It's 14:50 in Stockholm, I've been travelling since I woke up 04:00 in a hostel next to Heathrow and I've still got another nine hours before I'm home.
Home. Where's home, anyway? Days like this, I call the whole world my home. The London Underground, Heathrow terminal 3, Stockholm Arlanda Airport and the coach which took me from there, the train station in Stockholm and the ferry which, in five hours, will take me back to Gotland.

I met Hana when I was studying in Brighton, autumn 2012. She was a little lonely as the only Japanese among loads of Swedes, I refused to speak any Swedish at all and was delighted for a chance to get to know someone from a culture that different from my own. We grew extremely close and the pain when I had to hug her goodbye and let her fly back to Tokyo was almost unbearable.
But I never gave up hope. We stayed in touch, sent letters and postcards and little gifts across the ocean, and knowing that we were as close as always made me strong. No matter how dark my life seemed, there was always a sparkling little ray of hope. Dreams of Japan, dressed in pink cherry blossom.
Hana is a restless soul, just like me. She came back to the UK September last year, moved to London. It took a year and more, but the second last day of 2013 we finally run into each other's arms.

Nowadays, my hair is black and longer than it has ever been before. The passport control on Heathrow hardly recognized me.
Hana liked it. When we sat down, she entwined my hair with her own and observed that we had the same hair colour. Like the sisters we are.

The year of 2014 started in a huge crowd of Londoners, somewhere halfway to Big Ben and the fireworks. Yes, I was a little disappointed that we got stuck there and didn't see the fireworks, but still it couldn't be more perfect. I was surrounded by four Japanese and the very spirit of London.
I had plenty of Japanese dishes, finally learnt how to eat with chop sticks and listened to the beautiful language Hana and her friends spoke. We always had the best of three different countries.

I promised myself I wouldn't cry when I hugged Hana goodbye, but it was impossible. It felt like my heart was torn out. Then, I watched London disappear underneath me and cried a little more. London is all I've ever loved, all I've ever wanted, and leaving it was indescribably painful.

At the moment, I cannot really decide if I'm delighted for the magical week I've had or if I'm heartbroken because I had to leave Hana and London. Most of all, I guess I'm just exhausted. I'm listening to the Mary Poppins soundtrack over and over again, singing "Super-cali-fragilistic-expiali-docious" to myself.

I've always thought New Year’s resolutions about losing half your weight or quit smoking or exercise yourself to death are the most ridiculous and pretentious things there are. We both know you're never gonna keep them, so why do you keep fooling yourself?
Myself, I make New Year’s resolutions that really count. This year, I only have one.
Never ever stop dreaming. Never ever forget that there is a place where the rain sparkles, where the tea never gets cold, where me and Hana dance on the rooftops of London with Mary Poppins and the chimney sweepers, where the Doctor flies us to the stars and where everything is covered in pink cherry blossom.
Where me and Hana can always be together. Like sisters.