THE END OF AN ERA

One day in November I had to say goodbye to my new friend, now sister. The end of an era that always seemed too good to last: two young girls in Barcelona, chinese food every Thursday, Silvia and I cheering our friend at a football match (his team lost). How had we ended up there, together? I was miles away from home but never felt more safe. She was family. Sometimes, I wondered if we’d done it on purpose –followed each other without knowing it, it was too magical to be a simple coincidence. We maintained the role of best friend in each other’s new chapter just in case any of us forgot who we were before moving to the city. When I told her I was moving back to my home town she understood it right away, which is why there was nothing for Silvia or me to do on the phone except cry at each other. It wasn’t a tragedy; just more sadness and upheaval in a sea of it. She felt gutted, I felt heartbroken. So many things felt over.

I worried the good times would be revealed as a fantasy, a mere delay of something depressing and true. I suppose this process can apply to anything in life, wether is a relationship, a city or a religion. At some point your idea of a thing has to make way for reality, and avoidance can only get you as far as you can distract yourself.

A month after leaving Barcelona, I realized she was gone (well, I was). I couldn’t stop thinking about the day I left the student’s residence. I sat on the floor of my tiny room where we used to get ready on Thursdays. I fell to my knees next to the bed we laid on together and cuddle when I was sick or hungover. I could feel the cold floor touching my thighs, it hurt. I was just trying to make it mean something. I imagined all of my friends draped across the room, smoking weed (sorry mum) or drinking cheap alcohol from the pakistani store around the corner (sorry, again).

But some part of me already felt closed off. Another month, another week, I might have spent an hour sobbing on the floor, torturing myself with memories and visions of a future I knew would never come. Instead I took it in as it was, recognized things were changing but our friendship wasn’t, then took the train home.

T’estimo Sil, bendito click 🙂

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