I hate driving through Plymouth. Each and every place in this stupid city reminds me of something I've lost, something I should have done or a mistake I've made. I drive past my flat and drive on or past the roads I used to curse daily to get to it and I'm reminded of the mistakes I made. I drive along a road near the city centre and I'm reminded of my horrible school experience. I drive past certain shops and am reminded of arguments, I drive along certain roads and I'm reminded of crying during my driving lessons when my instructor shouted at me, I drive along a certain road and am reminded of one of the best things I ever did but can no longer do.
I know this sounds strange and a bit depressing, but driving through Plymouth late last night and seeing my whole life play out as I drove along the A38 didn't make me feel sad. It made me reflect on my life, on all those mistakes and bad times and how actually they have led me to where I am today. If I didn't hate this town, then the alternative would be to become one of them; to have no hope, no drive, no ambition and to be happy with exactly what I have, regardless of what my dreams once were or could have been. Mistakes help you learn what you really do want, they help you to recognise your flaws so you don't make the same mistakes again and they help you to move forward to better things. And that is exactly what I intend to do this month when I move.
And so, finally, that desire I had last night will be fulfilled - just keep driving, drive as far away as possible and don't look back. Leave the mistakes behind, take the lessons from them and move on to the better things you couldn't have otherwise had. Because, really, were they even mistakes/bad things? If they have all led me to this point, where I'm happy and have a promising future full with opportunities I can't even imagine, would I wish to have never been through it all? No way.
Everything happens for a reason. I truly believe that.