I’m home for a long weekend for my birthday with my good friend Kristin and I couldn’t have asked for a better present! We’re back in time for a couple of days, wandering around in summer dresses, sipping rosé on sidewalk cafés, venturing into all the pretty churches, eating pretzels and buying books, talking about everything that crosses our mind, laughing loudly and soaking up the sun.
And it’s so good to be home, my body throbs with fervor, I can barely sleep, I’m that excited! Yesterday I wasn’t even hungry, we’d been walking and walking, lunch was long overdue and I’d only had a pretzel, but there was no time for food, not as long as there were so many more things left to see, then dinner came and I had something light, but I still didn’t feel like eating, I only did it because I had to.
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nostalgia
Moving out
Three weeks to go and my apartment will be someone else’s. I haven’t usually been that emotionally tied to the flats I’ve lived in, in fact, I normally can’t wait to move and start over somewhere else. And I haven’t been that youhuu-happy in it, either, still, for one reason or another it’s a really really sad departure.
Snowy days
It´s been snowing for days and it´s so very pretty outside! Snowflakes big like butterflies, they keep on falling down hurriedly, with vigor, as though they had only one purpose in life. It´s windy and it´s ruthless outside and I feel like a polar explorer when I dare leave the house. I hadn´t realized how much I´d missed it, it reminds me of my mother country, the panic on the news and the closed schools. Yet I´m not a winter´s child, I prefer admiring it from under the blanket, with a cup of tea in my hand. Staring at the snow safe and sound with the cat besides me, I can feel nostalgia slipping into my thoughts.
I´m going home in February and I´m as excited as ever. Every time I go back home it´s like taking a trip back in time. I don´t just go on a holiday, I go back to being 19. And it´s soaring. It´s not about age or accomplishments, it´s just that beginning, the promise of something bigger, I always wonder when I decided I got there. Don´t get me wrong, I´m pretty happy. The only thing I want is a baby and a picket fence, otherwise I´m good. I have it all. Just not the promise. I´m not 19 any more and the promise is gone. And I don´t know how to go home and not look for the time that passed…
life in a bubble 