The thing I am nostalgic for, the thing that had me crying on a stranger’s doorstep on Camden Road surrounded by Sainsbury’s bags, is not the life or identity of my twenties. It is the sense of being a time millionaire – having oodles and oodles of options. I will forever mourn the teenage and twenty-something feeling of being a proprietor of endless empty minutes; of having boundless days ahead of me. I think, whatever age I am, I’ll always be searching for stacks more of it.
