What am I doing here?
What am I doing here?
I'm in Germany. I don't live here. Why am I here? That's what me from several years ago would ask present-day-me. I'd say that my very dear close relative lives here now. Past-me would be surprised.
I was in Barcelona two days ago. I'm still in love, I'm still brokenhearted. I'm still hopeless and hopeful at the same time. I've still got a friend there. And I lost my lover there.
I cry when I'm there and I smile a lot. Every time in Barcelona I remember the verse from a book about traveling in Istanbul: "...and when I see a couple kissing on the bridge it is as if the city's telling me: you can have my beautiful mosques and markets, but you can't have me". The city is not mine, the city is of the people who live and work there, I'm just watching the reflection of it in the mirror and getting excited.
I love walking in the streets that still have a me from 2 years ago - I kissed my lover on that beach for the first time, I cried on the bench in this park, I've first tried a clara in this cafe, I sunbathed on this spot. That was me, and that me does not exist anymore.
There are two things in the world that I want so badly I feel like I can become a Judas if I know I get them - working in arts and living in Barcelona permanently.
I miss Barcelona and I miss my lover a lot. The lover exist now as a concept, an unreachable ideal, an untouchable entity full of love and patience. The love I felt was enormous for one person, it was too much, it was borderless. There is nothing more beautiful than this kind of pure love. It doesn't disappear, I carry it inside all the time. I don't think there must be a 'right person' to share your love with. I think all the people need love, even the worst one, or maybe especially the worst ones. And love comes out of me whenever it feels like doing it, I can't control it.
When I'm in Barcelona, love is spilling from me onto everything and everyone.