I have always been extremely terrified of not being able to find the place where I belong - this is most likely my top priority in further life, and I always get very overwhelmed when I have to travel. Recently, however, I experienced something rather unexpected. But first, a brief explanation. Sofia is the city I was born and raised in - a rather peaceful, pleasant European capital. My entire life revolves around this place - all the people I love, all the places which bring back memories of fantastic times. However, most of the time I feel rather uneasy - it is simply like I am put in a place involuntarily, as if I would have chosen another place that I would confidently call home if I’d had the chance. I just feel like I have to learn to love Sofia, as I have to live here for at least 6 years. Lately the weather’s been wonderful. Spring is early this year - the clock was moved forward, it gets dark late. The evenings are warm and perfect for city walks. And since I recently got into a relationship, I have a pretty good reason to spend much more time outside. Honestly, my views have more or less changed. Today, I was walking through the centre, on my way to meet him. Emotionally, I was alright - obviously. But this evening was much more different than others - whether because of the pleasant weather or because Saturday is a happy day in general, something had changed. Groups of happy people were walking along the broad streets, teenagers were sitting on benches in the parks, lit in different colours, talking and laughing. The atmosphere was magical - there is no other word to explain it. As I was going home - about 10 PM, after he had left, I pulled my earphones out of my pocket, intenting to listen to some music as the journey home was relatively long. However, as I was eventually out of the centre and into the silent streets of my neighbourhood, something felt wrong. I took off my earphones and realized that I had the strong need to hear the surrounding sounds. The rustling of the fresh leaves; the distant roaring of car engines; the late night chat a woman was having while sitting on her balcony; the mumbling of a neighbour’s TV, coming through their open window. And that is when I felt the city. I was one with every small sound, with the warm air, the lights and the faint wind. Sofia was me. Maybe, Sofia is home. But there is time for that.