La Mujer Maravilla
I finished my degree after years of putting it off, living on my own, working full time to pay for all of this… life that I had; and suddenly I just don't know what to do with it. Like all this purpose and drive that I had, completely halted, stopped, dried out. A friend then tells me to go together to Madrid, a new plan seems just like the thing. On the way to get there she ditches me, which was unexpected but then I didn't quite have a bullshit filter to detect talking just for the sake of talking or a serious person talking... but I wanted to give it a try anyway, on my own, I don't like not having a goal.
Madrid was harsh for me, I missed the sea like crazy, I missed the light, I missed my family. I didn't cry exactly, but I always had the impression that they were around the corner, this big fat tears waiting to ambush me, if I let my control slip.
On a hard winter weekend, taking a course on teaching there was this girl that talked to me and made me, slowly, like the city again. She was very much like me, but more driven where I'm lazy, and we both were doing that particular course because we thought we had to; but what we really wanted was to write, write in magazines, write in poems, write in internet, write in walls, write in paper. She became my friend, something that I badly needed and, since then, even after I moved back, we try to meet up either in Madrid or in Barcelona to eat, chat and talk about our other biggest passion in common: traveling.
Because the world might be small but our time in it is quite short.