I realized about 40 minutes ago that I’m really leaving. In two days, for two months – and you know the whole story, c’mon.
And cities, oh cities, why are you so evil sometimes? Every city, when you just arrived, is studying you. Keeping you charmed, but hiding her face. Butterflies and lights, but nothing concrete. And when you’re all about to leave, they just bless you with all their best, keeping you thinking of why you are so messy that you couldn’t set in them. Still, keeping in them a piece of you, until you have skin, blood, and bones.
Of all the places I’ve been, unfortunately, only Rome wasn’t a place I felt mine. Maybe not my cup of tea, despite all the people I met there. Krakow was a blast from the first moment. Probably the closest city I felt to London, where something always happens, and people are always changing (but STAYING, no matter from the distance). The second place I’ve felt a sense of belonging, after Turku.
But of all the other places I’ve spent a short or a while in, oh Gdansk, you were REALLY hideous.
An amazing first summer, the whole last year with up and down, and the biggest revolutions and headaches (and heartaches?) in terms of dreams, feelings, passions. And well, the last summer that wasn’t summer, not even for me, that I’m in love with cold, rain and “dark” weather.
Until 2 weeks ago. Until when you decided it was time to shine, to try to keep me here, to get me wondering again of this willing to travel is a curse or is a blessing – in good time we will see.
Two weeks of meeting a lot of people, some of the most important I’ve ever met. Of having bonfires in your beach, with your “mare polacco!” (cit), that is always damn dark but is just perfect on sunrise and the sunshine. Of being out EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. until you nearly drop (or spent 12 hours sleeping, see last Thursday), with people that were always there, or just came. To see your three-cities, way more than I did in the whole last year-and-a-bit (well, excluding Sopot: there I’ve been quite a lot since the beginning). Of being knocked out on my bday, like VERY badly. Of trying to meet everyone, being not able to, messing up meeting and plans because you wish days have 30 hours, sometimes. Of this language that I never ever was able to fully understand or speak fluently, but still somehow became part of my “routine”, as I can easily reply to someone in the wrong language while I’m distracted.
No one of my friends and family was expecting me to stay here so long. And here I am, 3 years later, once again completely messed up from head to toe from who I was when I came, and who I am when I’m about to leave. But this is not a goodbye notes – Not a promise, either, but maybe a wish.
I’ll be here again, maybe for long, maybe not: but finally, this is one of the places I can feel like home.
“Every event is inevitable – if it wasn’t, it wouldn’t happen.” – Interstate 60