It's been a year now since I left you, NYC. And now I'm back for a month, even less, 25 days.
I have not even landed and it's already hurting that I am going to have to leave. I am happy to see you again, I´m happy to be wrapped in your arms again, to bathe in your polluted breath full of promising whispering and unfulfilled dreams
I am excited an nervous, and also scared. What is it going to be like to meet you again after such a long time? How are we going to feel? How are you going to treat me? The situation is different now. I don't really belong here, I've just become a passing by stranger for you. And yet, I still have this strange feeling of coming home to you.
Time has slipped away through the holes in my soul in every week, in every day...And all I keep doing now is trying to hold it, so it retains this moment , trying to understand.
Madrid is OK. I needed to be back there to heal, to find certain things. And everything comes together to close old doors and open new paths. And I walk them in joy, glancing at you from time to time,only to close my eyes and look away before your absence pierces my heart.
But now I am back, for a month, and I am just going to every second of the time with you. And after one more year, I'll come back again to see you.
In the end, we just depend on Fortune and the turning of her wheel. Fortune moves her wheel around in strange ways. IT pushes it and it moves around and then she stops it. Probably not even herself knows when or why. Because, who could have ever told me that I was going to want you so desperately?
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