Only 20 days left to go. 20 days until my life changes completely. Long-term. I’ve been dreaming about this moment for two years now, and somehow moving to Poland still sounds too good to be true. But despite the fabulous future awaiting for me (it is, after all, my dream coming true), I can’t help feeling nostalgic.
The more I think about it, the more I realize it would be best if I could squeeze my girls somewhere in the luggage, although that would mean less pairs of shoes for the new roads to be walked. I know I’ll miss them now more than ever. Because they rock. And they’re also irreplaceable. And colorful. And loud. And creative. And obsessive (psychotic sometimes). And I don’t want to hear the shit about planes and cars and trains and phones and skype calls and e-mails – I will accept all these, eventually, as the next best thing – but at the time being I’m still in deep mourning over our Friday nights, our spontaneous trips, our styling sessions (who’s gonna cut my hair, by the way?), our late night talks and scenarios, our hysterical, endless laughter.
I’ll miss the seaside. I didn’t get a proper chance to say goodbye to the sea, to inform her we won’t meet again in December, or on the 1st of May, for that matter, so this is me breaking a personal tradition with an unusual longevity. Of course, the clubs. Sure, Poland has tons of them, still to be explored, loved, squatted and eventually hated. Probably. At this point, they’re just a bunch of abstractions.
One question still remains unanswered. And since the place where this question (quite an old one) usually finds its answer will be closed until Ocotber, there’s quite a possibility I’ll be boarding with some home-made dilemmas, for the sake of complicating my life instead of keeping it simple. For the rest of it, emotional evaluations are not to be discussed. This summer has been mostly about closed chapters. I would have done it earlier but, as I recalled, it was not an easy task. Actually, it only takes a little practice.
But despite closing so many chapters, there’s still so many of them remaining open, so I guess I’m just being concerned about not working hard enough to prevent them from closing under the pressure of time. Or distance. Or both of them.
The more I think about it, the more I realize it would be best if I could squeeze my girls somewhere in the luggage, although that would mean less pairs of shoes for the new roads to be walked. I know I’ll miss them now more than ever. Because they rock. And they’re also irreplaceable. And colorful. And loud. And creative. And obsessive (psychotic sometimes). And I don’t want to hear the shit about planes and cars and trains and phones and skype calls and e-mails – I will accept all these, eventually, as the next best thing – but at the time being I’m still in deep mourning over our Friday nights, our spontaneous trips, our styling sessions (who’s gonna cut my hair, by the way?), our late night talks and scenarios, our hysterical, endless laughter.
I’ll miss the seaside. I didn’t get a proper chance to say goodbye to the sea, to inform her we won’t meet again in December, or on the 1st of May, for that matter, so this is me breaking a personal tradition with an unusual longevity. Of course, the clubs. Sure, Poland has tons of them, still to be explored, loved, squatted and eventually hated. Probably. At this point, they’re just a bunch of abstractions.
One question still remains unanswered. And since the place where this question (quite an old one) usually finds its answer will be closed until Ocotber, there’s quite a possibility I’ll be boarding with some home-made dilemmas, for the sake of complicating my life instead of keeping it simple. For the rest of it, emotional evaluations are not to be discussed. This summer has been mostly about closed chapters. I would have done it earlier but, as I recalled, it was not an easy task. Actually, it only takes a little practice.
But despite closing so many chapters, there’s still so many of them remaining open, so I guess I’m just being concerned about not working hard enough to prevent them from closing under the pressure of time. Or distance. Or both of them.
1 comment:
Polska won't know what hit it!
;)
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