An open letter to my dearest Barcelona,
.
Once upon a time there was a girl. A girl who swore the day her exams ended she would be on the first plane out of Ireland and never look back. And so it was, with her best friend by her side and a partially formed plan in mind she arrived in Barcelona for what was supposed to be "a ten day holiday". Ten days some how became 3 years and suddenly the day arrived that the girl decided to leave.
In case you didn't get it, I am that girl. But you got that right? Right. Lets continue.
So, Barcelona, here we are. I hate to say it but its not you, its me. It's your fault it's me, but it's me. We had some good times though. Lets be honest, when we were on we were ON. I think you are really beautiful. Honestly, I love all of you, even the bad parts. I will never forget the magic of waking up to you every day.
But you could be a little abusive. Im not going to lie, a couple of times you almost broke me down. I know you are bad for me, I know you never gave me a real job and sometimes you tried to mug me and there was that one time a prostitute punched me which frankly was a little uncalled for. You also have a seedy side. With the sex trade and the muggings and the general feeling of threat which occurs on small dark streets at night. But the thing about night is that eventually the sun goes up, then there is morning.
But lets talk about the good times shall we? Lets talk about the lovely sunny afternoon all year round and of sitting outside cafes watching the world go by. Lets talk about all the amazing people you bought into my life and all the fun I had living in this huge mixing pot of the world. Lets talk about the feeling of joy I still get from running up the metro stairs and stepping out into the city.
I'll so miss street parties and 24hr bars, the parks, the music, the hidden corners in the Gotico, the Rambla Catalunya, sitting on benches in Psg de Gracia, the flower market, the cathedral on psg San Juan that I would walk to when I couldn't sleep, street beers, monsoons in the autumn, heat stoke in the summer, Casa Bon Success, Casa Trippy, The Quiet Man, moments on my roof, breakfast in bed, Lola Kitten, the sound of skateboard of tiled streets, the funicular, jumping into the sea on a boiling hot day (or an ice cold night as the case may be), parties that lasted all night and into the day, afternoons wasted lying on the grass and 100 more moments that hit me whenever I think about leaving.
And the men. Wow, I never knew there were so many wonderful guys out there for me to make an ass of myself in front of. I grew up in a small town Barcelona, I was not prepared for the smorgasbord that you had to offer. It was like an all you could eat buffet and I attempted to fill my plate with a little of everything. Greedy greedy me. But I got some great stories out of it didnt I? That's the thing about you BCN, you always made for great stories.
There was love too wasn't there? Let us not forget the love. One big one. Love that is. Didn't really end so great but that's the way these things go isn't it? It's all part of the process. I will remember the good parts and learn from the bad parts and take it all a lesson. Just like I did with you Barcy. It's all just been a series of lessons wrapped up in one big lesson.
Friends. Friends I will have forever and some I may never see again but still
all of them giving me something, helping me along my way. Take care of them wont you?
There's a funny feeling in the air here. A nature of moving on, everyone on there way somewhere else, everyone working to fund their real jobs. We all leave you eventually don't we? Do you ever get tired of it? Or do you enjoy the high turn over? Always new faces and new stories. It must get tiring. I know that's why I am leaving. I got tired of doing it all over again. New job, new house, new people. I guess I have started to crave what it was I always hated, what I was trying to get away from. Tedium, routine, stability. I wonder how long before I get sick of it again.
I don't know if I will always feel so deeply for cities I live in. You were my first, that means something right? I always was just looking for a place to feel like home, a place to feel like I belonged.
And sometimes I found that in you.
I'll be back soon, you know that. I have left way too many shoes not to come back.
BCN, Te quiero.
.Once upon a time there was a girl. A girl who swore the day her exams ended she would be on the first plane out of Ireland and never look back. And so it was, with her best friend by her side and a partially formed plan in mind she arrived in Barcelona for what was supposed to be "a ten day holiday". Ten days some how became 3 years and suddenly the day arrived that the girl decided to leave.
In case you didn't get it, I am that girl. But you got that right? Right. Lets continue.
So, Barcelona, here we are. I hate to say it but its not you, its me. It's your fault it's me, but it's me. We had some good times though. Lets be honest, when we were on we were ON. I think you are really beautiful. Honestly, I love all of you, even the bad parts. I will never forget the magic of waking up to you every day.
But you could be a little abusive. Im not going to lie, a couple of times you almost broke me down. I know you are bad for me, I know you never gave me a real job and sometimes you tried to mug me and there was that one time a prostitute punched me which frankly was a little uncalled for. You also have a seedy side. With the sex trade and the muggings and the general feeling of threat which occurs on small dark streets at night. But the thing about night is that eventually the sun goes up, then there is morning.
But lets talk about the good times shall we? Lets talk about the lovely sunny afternoon all year round and of sitting outside cafes watching the world go by. Lets talk about all the amazing people you bought into my life and all the fun I had living in this huge mixing pot of the world. Lets talk about the feeling of joy I still get from running up the metro stairs and stepping out into the city.
I'll so miss street parties and 24hr bars, the parks, the music, the hidden corners in the Gotico, the Rambla Catalunya, sitting on benches in Psg de Gracia, the flower market, the cathedral on psg San Juan that I would walk to when I couldn't sleep, street beers, monsoons in the autumn, heat stoke in the summer, Casa Bon Success, Casa Trippy, The Quiet Man, moments on my roof, breakfast in bed, Lola Kitten, the sound of skateboard of tiled streets, the funicular, jumping into the sea on a boiling hot day (or an ice cold night as the case may be), parties that lasted all night and into the day, afternoons wasted lying on the grass and 100 more moments that hit me whenever I think about leaving.
And the men. Wow, I never knew there were so many wonderful guys out there for me to make an ass of myself in front of. I grew up in a small town Barcelona, I was not prepared for the smorgasbord that you had to offer. It was like an all you could eat buffet and I attempted to fill my plate with a little of everything. Greedy greedy me. But I got some great stories out of it didnt I? That's the thing about you BCN, you always made for great stories.
There was love too wasn't there? Let us not forget the love. One big one. Love that is. Didn't really end so great but that's the way these things go isn't it? It's all part of the process. I will remember the good parts and learn from the bad parts and take it all a lesson. Just like I did with you Barcy. It's all just been a series of lessons wrapped up in one big lesson.
Friends. Friends I will have forever and some I may never see again but still
all of them giving me something, helping me along my way. Take care of them wont you?
There's a funny feeling in the air here. A nature of moving on, everyone on there way somewhere else, everyone working to fund their real jobs. We all leave you eventually don't we? Do you ever get tired of it? Or do you enjoy the high turn over? Always new faces and new stories. It must get tiring. I know that's why I am leaving. I got tired of doing it all over again. New job, new house, new people. I guess I have started to crave what it was I always hated, what I was trying to get away from. Tedium, routine, stability. I wonder how long before I get sick of it again.
I don't know if I will always feel so deeply for cities I live in. You were my first, that means something right? I always was just looking for a place to feel like home, a place to feel like I belonged.
And sometimes I found that in you.
I'll be back soon, you know that. I have left way too many shoes not to come back.
BCN, Te quiero.
xx
p.s Ill write again soon.
p.s Ill write again soon.
4 comments:
i dont know what to say that was pretty damn great!!
Rosa Ospina, I love you...
x
I am in a cafe in Portland, and thinking of you. This post brought a tear to my eye. And I love the photo of our hands, it represents us perfectly; blue and eternally linked. I <3 you. But you know this about me.
Eternally yours,
Ciara.
Dear Rosa,
I always suspected that one day you would either drift through life in a state of carefree serenitiy or wind up turning tricks for sailors in a foreign port.
I now realise that the truth was somewhere in between the two.
Drop me an email and let me know where in the world you'll end up next... I'm on the same addy.
Duncan x
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