#athomeish

[athomeish]

Madrid. 

My dear Madrid.

I wasn’t born here. To be honest, a decade ago I wasn’t even interested in you that much. There were plenty of other places I wanted to visit and experience, you weren’t at the top of the list. But today, today you’re home.

After seven weeks of total quarantine, which felt like I wasn’t really here, I finally got to go out and witness your beauty again. An hour long walk, something so important in my daily routine, was finally gifted back to us.

It’s Saturday and on Saturdays I don’t wake up early. As a rule it’s the day when I don’t set any alarms, I lay in, I take it easy.

Not today.

Today I woke up at 6:45, just before sunrise. I couldn’t wait. I couldn’t wait to walk along those little streets, to cross those old - usually extremely busy - squares. And honestly, it was such an emotional hour. It sort of felt like discovering you all over again. And, oh boy, it felt like home. It felt right. A tad bizarre, a bit unknown, sort of scary but right. Madrid, you’re back. And bit by bit, day by day, we’ll get to enjoy more of you again.

We’ll feel how welcoming you are. We’ll experience the closeness between your people. We’ll live the happy life you so generously offer.

Tomorrow I’ll wake up early again. And I’ll walk again. And the day after that. And all the following days too.

And although I hate the words “special” or “unique”, you are just that.

And I’ll proudly call you home, for as long as you’ll have me.

Yours,

O.

#madrid #malasaña #coronavirus #quarantine #walk #street photography #street photo #home #feels like home #athomeish #athome #citywalk #spain

[athomeish]

I've always hated goodbyes. It started when I was very little and my mum was taking me to the nursery. Not one day would pass without me making a scene when she was leaving the building. Then, a few years later, my parents would visit me at all sorts of school trips and camps. The moment they got into their car to head back home, I'd break into tears. Not a second earlier though, didn't want to look weak. Lol. Fast forward a decade and I'd go on language courses where I'd spend a month surrounded by people from all over the globe. The farewells were always very bitter and genuinely felt like funerals. It sounds dramatic, but the sensation of never seeing someone again was kind of similar. I mean, what are the chances to meet up with a pal from Brazil again? Actually, not that small, but I certainly didn't know that in the age of seventeen. I'll get to this later.

Then I moved out of Poland. At first just for a few months and then for... Well, I'm still not back. And this is where things get super complicated. Let me elaborate a little bit. See, it's no news on this blog when I say I've always wanted to live abroad. It was exciting, I had dreamt about it my entire life and until this day I have not regretted the choice of packing my bags and essentially saying goodbye to my country. But... And there's a big "but". Poland, as a place, would be one thing. My family, my friends (and my cat!) are a completely different story. See, whenever I go back there for Christmas or summer holidays, I end up extremely sad when leaving it again. At the beginning I thought it was going to get better with time but, oh boy, was I mistaken. It gets worse and worse and sometimes it feels like I should just stay.

The worst part is that I never see the bitterness of those goodbyes coming. It lingers somewhere, hidden, quiet, pretty much invisible. And then, when you least expect it - SURPRISE! No warning, no signs, nothing. Suddenly my eyes fill up with years, my throat ties in a knot and there I am crying in front of my nervous family trying not to look like an idiot. Because, you know, they might feel like my life outside of Poland is no good. They might think I really don't want to go back. Spoiler alert - they're wrong in both cases. I adore my life, I'm just sad it placed my happiness so far away from all of them. I feel the injustice of it and it gets me proper frustrated and upset. That's the essence of this whole "I hate goodbyes" thing. I've been leaving people around the planet for years now. I've been through some really hard farewells and yet I keep repeating them.

I have family in one place and then friends all over the globe. My very good friends. People who I love dearly. People who I want to share my daily life with. But it can't be done. I can't just call them to meet up for a coffee or a city break in some cozy rural place our of town. With every goodbye I give up on part of those relationships. It's heartbreaking.

For years I've been ignoring the thought about leaving people behind. And how sad it would make me every single time. It's easier this way, it's better not to complicate it. But last year, when I was moving countries again, it stung a little too much. And I haven't been able to shake this feeling off for months now. I keep asking myself, why do I do this to myself? Why can't I stay put and just enjoy life with the people I love? I'm still to find the answer to that.

There's one thing I know for sure. The seventeen year old me was absolutely convinced that a goodbye once said is forever. The 28 year old me knows it's not necessarily. The world is a relatively small place. And even if it takes a while to reunite with all those people, it eventually happens. And even though we'd not been in touch for a bit, I can still sit with them and pick up the conversation where we left it. The cliché says it's not a ‘goodbye’ - it's a ‘see you later’. And do you know what? It's true. Well, at least in most cases. Does it make good-byes any easier though? Nope. They're just as painful and just as teary. So I guess, for now, whoever invents the teleportation machine, please get in touch. Hope you're having a fabulous day. Love, O.

#goodbye #nomad #modernnoad #athome #athomeish #feelingathome #whatishome #homeiseverywhere #homeiswhereyourheartis #homeiswhereyouare #hategoodbyes #tearygoodbye #byebye #seeyoutlater