On Splitting Your Heart.
I was talking to one of my best guy friends from Spain (who is also Spanish) the other day for the first time since we said goodbye…uuff, 4 months ago now. It was so great to catch up and I was definitely missing him, my other friends from abroad and all of my experiences, so finally getting to have that connection to my life the beginning half of this year was amazing.
Part way through our conversation I mentioned something. Admitting that it would read as dramatic at first, I begged him to let me state it, with the basic Spanish words I could think of, and then to further explain. It went something like this “Me siento ahora, como mi corazón está divido en muchas partes…” (I feel as though my heart is split in many parts…) And yet, before I could even begin to explain away what I thought might be a dramatic sentiment, he started nodding. That understanding, it was so nice to have.
It’s true though, that a lot of the time I feel as though I’ve left pieces of my heart in influential places. The largest chunk will always be with me, of course, its strongest ties then being left at home and with my parents. Another piece here at school with all of my loves here. Some scattered throughout my past travels. Another large piece in Granada as well…
It’s tough, continually spreading myself out, letting so many amazing people and experiences into my heart, to effect me, only to be pulled away. And yet, I wouldn’t change them in the slightest. I’m fortunate to have a big enough heart that there is enough to go around. And those tugs I feel on it, those are the reminders of the places, people and experiences that really resonated with me. My only little way to keep tabs on all of my worlds as the person I am today works hard to fuse them all together.
Hello to the few of you still with me! Being back at school and immersed in work and friends has made Granada feel like a distant dream. Though, one I most certainly would sleep for hours to have the chance to roll around in.
Today though, is my 21st birthday, which I suppose would have less of an attachment to it back in Granada. I’m so excited, I love birthdays!!!!! But, I’m wishing that my present could be a big ol’ return trip. Or, probably tickets for all of the people I love from abroad to be here celebrating with me.Yeah, that would be pretty darn sweet.
You know it’s been said that we just don’t recognize the significant moments of our lives while they are happening. We grow complacent with ideas, or things or people and we take them for granted and it’s usually not until that thing is about to be taken away from you that you’ve realized how wrong you’ve been that you realized how much you need it, how much you love it.
Sometimes you just can’t tell anybody how you really feel not because you don’t know why, not because you don’t know your purpose, not because you don’t trust them, but because you can’t find the right words to make them understand.
Reminiscing In a City I Love
I love London. Oh my word do I love it. That feeling that I’ve been here before, reorienting, the rush of people, the architecture, the sense that you could never run out of things to do here—it’s great!
I’ve realized too since being away from Spain something else that I love. I love the sounds of Spanish no matter where I am. Love when I subconsciously hear a snippet of Spanish and suddenly i’m turning towards wherever the sound emanated from. Wanting to be sucked into that moment with whomever might be speaking it. I long for them to linger nearby, or ask me something in broken English so I can respond to them in Spanish. Reassure them that I can help them navigate in their native tongue. Oh sometimes I ache to speak Spanish. I don’t even realize it until it’s just out of my reach, but I am so in love with the steady stream of sounds in a Spanish phrase. The lightly tapped p’s and the quickly moving r’s. If they drop their s’s I’m instantly transported back to Granada, feeling connected to their knowledge of Andalusia.
And that I can realize that love here, in london, just out of reach to the place I called home for four and a half months. It’s amazing really. I love that about london too. Not the tourism aspect of it, but the fact that no matter where you stand, there are people from all over the place. Though hardly anyone questions where you’re from because despite the different looks and accents, most of these people would identify with being from right here, this city. So complex, diverse, with something always going on. I love it.
But I am longing to go further north in England. To return to the areas I’ve just visited. As exciting as the fast paced differences are, I also love the simplicity of things that are all the same. I had taken some comfort in knowing that everyone else I was passing was from England, oftentimes from the city I was in or just nearby. As much as I love the sounds of Spanish, the British accent is similar enough to my own that i can continually understand, and yet just different enough that my interest is continually peaked.
Language is a wonderfully complex and continually captivating element. I fear I could talk anyone’s ear off rambling on about the little linguistic elements I notice, the theories I have behind them, the enjoyment I get from simply listening or speaking or engaging in a conversation. Leave it to London to get you thinking in that way. For its reciprocity, leading your mind wander as you simply observe.
The abroad adventure continues, and I have been awful at updating! I fully intended to keep this updated, and then life happened and I went with it instead of being tied down to the blog. Suppose you’ll just have to chat with me to get the bits of the last couple of weeks filled in. Fancy that, an actual conversation!