I woke up this morning. I said the date, out loud, in Hungarian (my last dream before waking up was in Hungarian) and the sound of the words took me to a soul-searching.
I said (in Hungarian), Happy New Year Miss Benshitta… and it hit me, that I would be an old maid, a spinster in Hungary… ugh… would it have forced me to get married and become swallowed up by another’s life?
Had I stayed in Hungary… I probably would have continued working as an architect. I probably would have never done the steps that would have taken me through all the steps one has to take to reach and walk a different path.
I would be unfulfilled, and probably dead.