It is certain by now that I will definitely miss Albuquerque, the city for which I had absolutely no expectations in the first place.
It is certain that I will miss driving my own car that costs cheap gas on the wide open roads towards the mountains at 110 km/h, as if you could never reach there even though they are right in front of you.
It is certain that I will miss those mild warm days when I'll just need to wear my Abercrombie & Fitch sweatshirt and ripped jeans at the end of December.
It is certain that I will miss the view from my house, of rising balloons at bright dawn and of stunning sunset over Sandia which shows you the possibility of hundreds different shades of pink and orange if you look closely enough.
It is certain that I will miss sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night and sitting on the swing while staring at the starry sky in the empty field with my empty mind.
It is certain that I will miss going on a long hike up to the rough mountains, which I secretly don't enjoy much but I feel like I have to tell people I love hiking for this place's sake.
It is certain that I will miss driving to the park where I can see all the city lights blinking as if they are trying to talk to me in a secret language but somehow it makes sense to me.
It is certain that I will miss Halloween, the craziest holiday ever, when I can dress up in any costume without being judged, go on trick-o-treating on high heels, and end up bringing home a basket full of candies that I wouldn't eat at all but still feeling so exhilarated.
It is certain that I will miss the small hill at Taylor Ranch that reminds me of Edinburgh where I always lie on the grass and stare at the sky with the warm sun shining on me, while the dogs run around merrily like there's absolutely nothing to worry about in the entire world.
It is certain that I will miss Cards Against Humanity game that teaches me much more real English and American culture than any teacher or school or book ever did.
It is certain that I will miss going into a food coma and getting drunk on Christmas Eve after too many chocolate cookies and gin & tonics by the bonfire in our backyard.
The list will go on and on until the day I leave. If there's a certain amount of nostalgia, I wish I could start using it now, so that when the day eventually comes, all my nostalgia for Albuquerque runs out and I will be able to get on the plane with no regrets or melancholy.