ever-present London

It is odd to think that someone is walking along the Strand in London while I am in [an american city], in the room I've occupied (off and on) for 14 years. It is difficult to acknowledge that London is still alive and active as ever, without me. Less a narcissistic thought than mere wonder that a place I love and no longer occupy still exists if I am not there to witness it take place. It gives me some comfort to think that London is still there, that people are now going to the theatres in the West End, sitting in concerts, enjoying dinner on the South Bank in the cafe where I once had dinner at least once a week, and walking the darkened streets only illuminated by the lights from buildings, cars and street lamps, while I watch the sun decline in my home across the ocean. Everything that is happening now in my foreign home I will witness again one day. When I do I will not be thinking about my native town.