(L.) Okay. So this summer is going to be different, I keep telling myself. I sometimes catch myself thinking of things we would do, places we would go to, even songs we would listen to in the car while driving to the parking lot just to eat a pizza. And that makes me sad. It does, and I’m not going to hide that. And yes, this stage of our lives might be (well, it is) beautiful in its one way, but this significant part is missing and there’s nothing else to do than just to accept it. I guess it’s better to focus on what we have, on what is actually going on. So yeah, we should probably explain what this is all about.
In April, I left to live in Amsterdam for a bit. And that bit is 5 months. And now it’s crazy to think that we won’t be together for the best part of the year, for the whole summer, but I guess, we’ll have to get the most of this experience (can you see some real self-persuasion going on here, huh?) So, it’s been exactly a month since I left now while I’m writing this. That morning when I left had a strange vibe, the feeling of uncertainty and it was hard to believe that it’s actually happening. Up until now when people ask me why I chose to come here I don’t have an answer. I hadn’t been here before, nor it was some kind of dream destination for me, I just chose it for some unknown reason, which, I strongly believe is how universe works. Some things just happen and you have to embrace them and let life take you to where you’re supposed to be at the moment.
So, on the first day when I came to Amsterdam I knew I would like it, it’s a beautiful place, and I was happy to be here, although, not to leave this like a perfect picture, I must say there instant love, click moment didn’t come. It was just a nice feeling of being somewhere else and that’s okay. But as time passes, I catch myself more often walking the streets smiling, having a bit of that warm feeling inside, some kind of calmness and certainty that this must be the place where I belong at this point in life. Passing the canals, seeing the sun shine through the green branches of trees or stepping into that huge square (I should google the name of it) full of people, with music playing and tourists taking pictures makes me feel a bit more certain that this was the right thing to do.
So, here I am, sitting at my kitchen table in the place I call (and pretty much feel like at) home, watching the golden sunset through my window and everything feels to be right. Not perfect, definitely not easy, just right. Summer will go by fast. And it won’t be the same without you, without days spent together but I believe we both will have our amazing summer nights, see some sunsets that light the sky on fire and make some wishes while watching shooting stars. (It’s not the same as it used to be, but isn’t everything?)
(I.) So as Laura left, I was terribly missing our brunches. And I wanted to calmly eat dinner with her in the terrace for once more. With a light breeze. And small talks about huge plans. For the past few months, my head was something in between the process of spinning from ideas (different shapes of them) and a total confusion and delusions. And Laura’s absence did help a lot! (Obviously joking!!). I was simply starving for that moment when you finally are able to calm down, sit in a cafe and think about your daily life from a different perspective.
You know, I would love to become this concept you get on particular moments. Like some kind of anthem that reminds us of our entity.
The energy. A feeling, that you get when your favourite music is playing and these waves of pleasure roll down in you. Or the feeling, when you are driving with someone and everything seems to be right. So in place. And you look at that person, sometimes for far too long and see him as your favourite one at that particular moment. Because the person, the time, the flashing views and the energy make a perfect balance. In these moments I like to think that maybe temporality is even better.
But first and foremost, I have made a promise to myself. That no matter how much I love people and like to give them the best energy possible. I would always, always make some energy for myself first. And there was this evening when I was capable to do so.
You know, there are particular summer evenings and half-nights. When everything sort of sinks in. When you can finally FEEL the evening. And you feel comfortable with yourself. With the being you are. With those loose clothes you’re in. My friend kept dancing as we were walking and I kept my slow pace near her. And at that moment I understood that I felt so calm and content for I was not judging myself for being deeply in my own thoughts. Not fully with the person near me. But most importantly I was thankful for my friend for not making any remark on my absence. For letting me drift away to the places only known to me. So at these particular evenings I terribly. And entirely. Miss something. Something, I never understood. But that feeling kind of sweetly and bitterly, tastes, finally, like life.