It's cold, all of a sudden. Bone-chilling cold. The streets are empty, dead,frozen, still, but the lamplights spill yellow over my head and the city is mirroring the night sky, in the distance.
I can't even hear my own steps. Just that sound...
It feels like home again. That sense of familiarity, when the author disappears and the character emerges, when Friday takes over my body, slowly, becomes part of the silent rumor that sorrounds me, him, us. I can smell his leather jacket, see his messy hair, hear his silent screaming in a world that was only his. Animals, silence. Everything before Sam, before life, before Explosions in the Sky.
Just me and him and no one walking in empty cities and streets and dust.
That familiar guitar is lost in the night, with everything else, and for a moment, all I see is the blaring white of bus-stop lights, yet another alternate dimension, and the trees that move even though time has left without them.
I am alone, he is alone, but our steps are confused and it makes all the difference, between the music and the cold night and the streetlamps of a wolrd that doesn't exist.
I’m sitting here in this desk I’m not too familiar with watching a soft, yet violent, cloudy dawn. The mountains are mocking me; there is no more low buildings and the smell of salt. Just rainwater and streetlights and cars and crazy people scaring the shit out of me at 4.am, banging on my door and trying to get in (and I here I thought people in uni were mature, responsible adults).
It feels surreal. Summer is over but I feel like in a trance; it’s been so different. Just sitting all night out in the porch, eating thai noodles at 8.00am while watching Mushi-shi (Akatsuki no Hebi, dango and crabs), building a monster house in the sims, walks with the dogs while the sun hides behind the Mountain, and the Tree, and safari sunset.
Bon iver haunts me with images of warmth.
And yet, I can’t feel bad either. A sort of strange in-between. Trying to get to know people, suprassing my antisocial personality ever so slowly, wishing for Sara to come and to see Jenny so it will make this place more familiar. I want to tangle piano notes in the tree leaves. Some places I want to explore remind me of Cala Flores, just going around and around, up and down, leftrightleft, listening to tattoos and hoping, somewhere in the back of my mind, that I’d find him (I never did but it’s ok). Seeing him at that Vetusta Morla concert, followed by sexy blonde long limbs and dancing and a man-woman, sort of ended something. I wanted to cry, so hard. It was like realizing how much I still loved him, in a different way, and how my position with him remained the same nevertheless.
As I try to get used to all the new, small sounds my house makes and force myself not to be nervous every time I hear a lock turn in the hallway, classes go by with promises of hard study but interesting things that will make me feel better than ever, because I’ll be getting somewhere, doing something that will take me one step closer to reaching that which I’ve always wanted. I am going to give it all and become a great vet; I have confidence in myself with that, at least.
Marina and Mom have been here today, and it all feels like a dream, but having my dear catfish sitting here on my chair brought a sort of familiarity into the room that makes the music roar lower in my head. Also, there are small promises of friends, with gentle smiles from long-limbed strangers and befriending people without even noticing it.
Summer. So many things; every day seemed like the previous and next and yet it was all so incredibly different in each one that I can’t even begin to recall all the dog smiles and motives of laughter and showers and volleyball in the pool and the green of the grass and yago’s sticky love. Granada was a curious adventure of walking about without getting lost but without finding what we wanted, and yet it was liberating, just catfish and I wandering and admiring past, present beauty and getting bed-bites and laughing at waiter’s insanity and old women telling their life at 100km/h.
And now, two months have gone by! ( lol yes, I wrote this entry a long time ago and randomly saved it xD) It’s incredible, how time moves forward without waiting for anyone. My days are now filled with a new routine: going to class (drawing in chemistry, falling asleep in anatomy); laughing at the cafeteria in our break while hoping to see Wolverine (lol), getting to know everyone a little better…we take group pictures and have fun at the farm with the horses and it’s so completely different. Minds have changed, and where my sarcastic, cutting comments used to be received with frowns or glares, now there’s only laughter and comfortable situations. I also feel that I’ve changed, so much; I talk with ease to people, I’m not afraid of large groups, I want to meet new faces and never get tired of being around strangers!
I also have the pleasure of seeing a familiar face once in a while, Africa ( ‘’I thought I saw you the other day! I said to myself-I know those boots’’) and going back to La Manga almost every weekend. Being there, in my room, like always, spending the night awake with a familiar view from my window is one of my greatest pleasures now, with the sense of ‘’home’’, truly. When I can I drop by my old highschool, see everyone, have the teachers greet me and ask me how I’m doing, it also makes me very happy. And Diego, well, after some email exchanges and some crying because this feeling is sometimes too overwhelming, I’m doing good, I guess. The bad thing is that it makes me long for a relationship like that, and I often find myself imagining all sorts of meeting situations with nameless lanky men with unruly black hair, but it keeps me entertained, so it’s ok.
I also went to campo one Sunday and it helped me settle down, playing around with the dogs, taking walks, picking flowers, laughing with paloma…when night fell I sat on the porch as always listening to the Princess Mononoke OST and mamen told me-we missed seeing a light on here!. That made me think, once again, of our wondewrful summer, but I wasn’t sad at all. I just sat there studying anatomy watching chiqui walk around the house and couldn’t have felt any happier, really, even if the catfish’s presence was gone.
And now here I am, listening to Woody Allen soundtracks, trying to recall all the small details, all the strange people met on party nights, that great rock concert with Jenny and Francis or last night’s Halloween party (I thought I was going to die of laughter; it happens when men dressed up as whores do their best to entertain you).
And so life goes on. Sara will probably drop by later, like she always does, just to chat or lie down in my bed reading biochemistry books while I study and we listen to music and it’s one of the best things here, the finishing detail to make this warm room seem like home, eating ramen, watching movies and imagining doing the same thing with Catfish next year.
So yes, I’m loving uni life :D
We listen We listen with open ears And every word is a kiss is a sigh is a promise from beautiful lips…
