A Love Letter to Oxford
You were a dream, then a happy reality, now a home away from home…
Early mornings after not so early nights, class after class of language, literature, linguistics and more, hours spent in the kitchen surrounded by friends and hours more in the library surrounded by books.
The way the sunlight glows on the yellow stone of the buildings I walk past every single day, and how at night, it transforms into light glowing out of the windows, lighting the way. Stars shining in the clear skies above the Rad Cam, wind rustling leaves on the trees in Uni Parks, the long walk to the Sackler with a fresh reading list each week. Cosy afternoons spent in the JCR, cosier nights spent watching films with my friends. Trekking to Iffley day in day out to play badminton, reminding myself every time that I really should get a bike. The waft of linen from the laundry room in the quad, and the music from the bar drifting into the night, enticing you in for just one drink, only to come home at 3am clutching your favourite chips; a night well spent. The look of excitement you give your tutor when you -finally- get it, and the satisfaction of finishing that essay that’s taken oh so long.
They say it’s the little things, and you bet it’s the way I can see the church spires just perfectly from my window, the subtle embarrassment of locking myself out of my room -again-, and the true comfort in crawling into bed for those few remaining hours each night knowing that I get to do it all again tomorrow, that I’m missing right now.
All my love, always,