I finished an entire tube of toothpaste on my own. An amazing feat, I know, but I want to draw the attention away from the amazingness and point out that when I arrived in Barcelona, this tube was completely full. The rim was still impeccable, the cap opened without stickiness, it was a nice weight in my hand.
And now, it’s empty.
Everyday, twice a day (sometimes three if I really felt the need), I would squeeze a little blob onto my toothbrush. I didn’t think twice about it, I didn’t calculate how much I had used, or how much I should use. I just went through the everyday motions of brushing my teeth… it was like… I was just living, like I do back in California.
And after day by day, week by week, month by month, I’ve squeezed out the last blob tonight. Such a mundane thing, no? Yet, to me, this is what living somewhere means. It’s the mundane, the normal, the boring, even the chore-like.
Barcelona has, in a way, superseded my mindset that I’m going to be leaving very soon and nestled itself in a corner of my heart. After my week in Sevilla and Morocco, I just wanted so dearly to be… home: Barcelona. Hahaha. It probably doesn’t matter which city, really (although Barcelona is pretty stellar, I have to say). It’s the streets I’ve walked through again and again, the stores I’ve passed by, the familiarity of the atmosphere that I used to be sharply aware of but now am a part of, in my own foreigner way.
I say all this because I have a little over a month here and I am genuinely about 95% sadder than I had expected. I had expected the 5%; how could I not be affected? But the other 95%… that’s a little unexpected for me. I get over things really easily and I don’t get emotionally attached to many things. Yet, I feel a tinge of sadness? longing? wishfullness? That was definitely not a word. But you get what I mean.
Maybe it’s because by default it’s my first city abroad? Does it really matter though?
I’m here, I’ve got very little time left. And I am eternally grateful for this opportunity to have been and to have loved, even while knowing it won’t be permanent. I sound so dramatic. God. All from stupid toothpaste.
Anyway. I’m so tired. I got back a couple hours ago, unpacked, showered, and am now ready for sleep, rest, recovery, and a full weekend again. At home, in Barcelona. I get to do this. I get to be here.