I must say I was very much looking forward for them to come over and have imagined all sorts of things that we would do and eat and go to. For most of them, we didn't even have time. But we managed to squeeze in as much as possible.
Friday afternoon driving back from Stonehenge, my friend just said that she couldn't imagine herself being capable of driving with 90 miles per hour on the dual carriageway and that she must admit , she admires me for moving over here and getting use to life in the UK.
And after two weeks of constant questioning myself, of indefinite doubt whether I am doing things alright or am I completely hopeless, for the first time, I have felt proud. Proud for coming where I come from, from a small town, moving here, driving to work everyday so far (on the wrong side) and basically managing myself in this environment. I haven't seen myself like this. So far I just saw myself as someone who is checking all the time, whether she is understanding everything, doing everything as the others etc.
To top this up, my other friend call me, just to check up on me and see how I was.
It was a day when I understood the gravity of the word: friend.
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