My mother, when she called that week, asked me if I was happy. If I was still punching walls or upset in any way.

I told her yes, I am. I look forward to going for classes (even the ones dominated by excitable American exchange students) and devour readings. I like to spend time eating ice cream in Newtown and having coffee on City Road, going to the zoo to oogle apathetic animals, sleepovers, bottles of wine, potlucks, wrapping up for cold weather, watching the leaves turn, walking through the city in the dark with him, adding to my bookshelf.

I told her I was happy.

Honest.