It’s happened. You’re not sure when or how but you know it’s happened. Things have changed. Sure, you roll out of bed, dress yourself, and go on like any other day. But you know. You start walking the streets you know to find the ones you don’t. Run your hands along the buildings when you meet like old friends. And when you roam your city, you sit with her for a while, and things fall together. You start to see how.  Like when you climbed up the highest point of the nearby town to see everything you call home. Took a moment to realize you were looking with fondness instead of awe. Or that time you went to get an espresso and the barista asked about your day and how your studies were going and it wasn’t until you said your goodbyes and got down the block that you realized you had answered in another language. You lay awake in bed at night, ruminating, struggling to find the words. But did you notice you’re smiling all the same? It’s right now. And yesterday. And tomorrow all at once. This? This is bone deep, baby. You couldn’t touch it if you tried. You’ve changed. And damn if that isn’t something wonderful.