Making love with a city
Life goes on, the past remains
No, I am not in Barcelona where I wish I were. The memories are still with me, they lighten up randomly.
I'm in my room, trying to sleep. I see the Platja del Bogatel, the swings, the MAPFRE Foundation and a notice that says there will be a Jean Luc Brusson exhibition here, but alas, I will no longer be in this city on the opening day. I'm swinging on a swing, trying to breathe in as much of this city's air as I can, I'm listening to Son Lux, my face wet with tears. I feel stupid, I feel happy, and I feel so much sadness. I don't want to leave. This episode reminds me of a similar one that happened over 10 years ago, when I was on a plane with my family to leave the city I fell in love with and became my hometown, the city I was born in and hated with all my heart.
How many cities would that be? How many tears must a person shed to return to the place where they know they belong?
In some places, your whole life is engraved. You see the city and you know - this is where your real life will take place. Life, however, does not give you that life, so you need patience, because true lovers never fall out of love - love keeps growing inside them. One day, they know they will be reunited with their lovers and love will explode with thousands of fireworks.
Maybe it's just wish fulfillment? Maybe. Do I have anything else to hold on to? Not really. I love this city and I know it loves me. It's waiting for me, and one day we will make love, true love.