Four weeks left before I go back to Brazil. And I already miss all of this. I already miss all of the good things I've had here. And the bad things too. I already miss walking on the bridge, admiring the landscape. I already miss Big Ben, London Eye, Greenwich, Piccadilly Circus, Oxford Circus, Tottenham Court Road, Charing Cross, Embankment. I already miss the museums. Natural History, Science, British. I already miss the parks too. The grass. The picnic. The k(n)ip. I already miss the friends I made here. I already miss the same songs playing non-stop on the radio. I already miss the dusk. I already miss the end of the afternoon in a pub, after class. I already miss the night bus (not really). I already miss the Tube strikes (not really too). I already miss my girls at work (for the first time in my life I was the "peligrosso"). I already miss Taro. I already miss the "I can't understand what you are saying". I already miss the buskers I've never paid attention to at the Tube stations. I already miss my oyster card and the cute voice on the Jubilee line going "this train terminates at Stratford". And the imperative "mind the gap" too. I already miss the long conversations through the night with my flatmates. I already miss the queen (does she miss me too? Probably not.) I already miss English breakfast, including the traditional English breakfast tea with milk. I already miss hot chocolate. Flakes, Galaxy, Kit Kat and Ben and Jerry's dinossaurs too. I already miss the lunch time in the park near the school. I already miss the school, by the way. The reception where I used to spend time with my friends. I already miss my best friend. I already miss my best teacher. I already miss the Waterloo station. I already miss Trafalgar Square. I already miss Road House, Border's, Starbucks and, most of all, Misato. I already miss my every day company. My half a brain. And our children. And our story. I already miss the Acropolis and Berlin. I already miss Christmas dinner. New year's eve. I already miss the sleepy good night calls. The good night kiss. And the good morning strawberry flavored kiss too. I already miss sheep, wool, needles, cashmere and a scarf with five little ducks plus their mama. I already miss the scarf's smell. I already miss striped things, pirates, Spider-Man, Jedi, Indiana Jones, Susan Calvin. I already miss foxes. I already miss tcham. BUT (index finger), most of all, I already miss her. And her craziness. Just not quite sure if she already misses me too. However, even though having a lot of things to miss seems to be sad, actually it's not. It just means that I have a lot of things to remember later. Things I did, I had, I tried, I learnt, I liked, I hated, I cried, I loved, I lived. But the really sad part of this post comes now: I wish this list were longer. Cos I already miss everything I haven't done. And four weeks before I'm going home, it seems that I have only seven hours left. And I just wish these seven hours could last forever. It's the end. No hope anymore. It's too late. And it's time to go home.