I thought I'd be blogging the most in my last couple weeks in Barca, exaggerating my job as a writer by putting emotions into every little inanimate object. Turns out it was such a whirlwind that writing anything seemed inadequate to convey my last minutes there. Regardless, I have to spark note something to keep the memory pungent.
Istanbul. Street bazaars everywhere you turn, with vendors that have hilarious pick up lines in just about every language you can think of. Cheap, delicious eats in all 3 parts of this country separated across 2 continents. People genuinely interested in welcoming you to their land, and giving you free apple tea just to have a conversation. Hookah cafes like coffee bars, packed with laid back souls watching the silky swirl of raspberry ribbon caressing the air. A skyline of mosques that are blue, pink, white in the daylight - but all unite under an amber fighting against the black of night. Birds that circle the tippy top of Galata Tower, reflecting the gold that lights the cylindrical monster, creating an image that is chiseled into my mind. Two people met through couch-surfing who showed us around the nooks of the city, reminding us that people are beautiful. Turkey.
Between 8 finals and 4 classes, I spent my last days walking the streets alone or in small groups. We reminisced about our trip in a reminiscent way - by finding new cafes, boutiques, and spontaneous performances. The last night, my roommate and I put on "Bollywood Night" for our host mom with makeshift dance attire (harem pants and a scarf used for a chunni) and performed our respective styles. Needless to say she was wilin out, taping us and clapping - laughing in that way. You know the look - when your head goes back and your eyes are still focused, teeming with an emotion you have to surrender to, like you know it's a moment you'll remember for the rest of your life. We played videos for her and shared pictures of our families and crazy Indian dresses. The "Indian twins" soaked it up alongside their adopted mother, and even though it wasn't vocalized - we all realized this was it. This was the last night in the first city we've ever truly loved.
The next morning was filled with tears and goodbye notes, followed by a cab ride to the airport with only sniffles breaking the solemn silence. With a Barcelona playlist illegally blasting in my ears to try to numb the sound of the engines rolling away from the gate, I looked out the window and said goodbye to the buildings, which from so high above looked like the individual squares that made up my Barcelona Box, the winding roads creating the confusion that pushed me out of it.
The transition was made easier because of the London detour. Expecting this trip to be like most others - I was pleasantly surprised when it became much more than a normal family visit. Partly because of the nightly adventures with my cousins that I missed out on in previous years, "baby of the fam" that I am. Partly because I had friends my own age there, and didn't need to rely on anyone to navigate the city. Partly because of the tears that couldn't be held back after being in my mother's arms after 4 long months away.
Mainly, however, because I met someone new. Someone truly special who is constantly changing, moving forward with a raw desire to live. Someone with a little spunk, a little kick. Someone to care for, who would lean on me and keep that beating heart pure. I thought to myself - this could be it! This could be the person to make me want to be a better human being.
Yes, this person has grown to be an extremely important part of my life, quite unexpectedly and quite immediately.
To the unborn baby in my sister's belly - you make me believe in love at first (lack of) sight. I love you, even though (to quote Bublé), I just haven't met you yet.
