Spanish Love (Interlude)

Ah, Madrid. My first love. This city triggers nostalgia unlike any other. Memories of sunny days juggling with my hombres in Retiro park, dancing until sunrise in Kapital, 1 euro chupitos (with the chupitos), churros con chocolate in the wee hours of the morning; I fell in love. But while I fell in love with the aura of Spain and the beautiful city I was living in, I found myself falling in love with a beautiful girl as well. Was I expecting it? No. Deep down did I want it to happen? Sure. Why not? How romantic would it be to fall in love in one of the most romantic places in the world. And then it happened. One of those cliche moments. You know the one where you see the girl and the world comes to a standstill for what seems like forever. To be honest I’m a hopeless romantic. In a sense, I’ve fallen in “love at first sight” many times before. This is because I’m easily captivated simply by the elegance and allure of a woman. It could be something as simple as her smile, her eyes, or even the smallest of mannerisms. With her, I couldn’t put my finger on it right away. Maybe it was an amalgamation of many features; the way her persian blue dress contrasted so effortlessly with her amber brown skin like the perfect clash of the ocean waves against the shores of an untouched tropical beach, or the way her composure portrayed the grace and complexity of a woman who, while kind on the eyes, would take the utmost effort to fully understand. The contradistinction between the warmth in her beauty and the mystery in her eyes left me enthralled. Right then and there I knew the difference between her and all of the other girls I had fallen for at first sight; I couldn’t let her pass me by like I had done so many times before.

Things began to move fast as they often do. I found myself wanting to spend every minute of every day with this girl. But our time in the charming city of Madrid was catching up to us. Soon the truth that was lurking in the depths of both our minds began to become harder and harder to ignore. Soon conversations about our future that used to end with the conclusion, “Let’s just enjoy what we have now and worry about all that later” began to end in sombre silence as we looked at each other and seemingly telepathically asked, What’s gonna happen to us? You see, 3 months goes exceedingly fast when you’re in the honeymoon phase of a new relationship. However as our departure from Spain grew near, and she prepared to return to Chicago and me to California, we tried our best to be optimistic about the fate of “us”. Yeah sure, long distance relationships have a success rate of 0.001% but we were different. Our connection was stronger enough to overcome it all (every long-distance couple’s famous last words).

I’d prefer not to go too deeply into details of how things began to unwind. But I can tell you it was the combination of many factors that led to the eventual end of our relationship. We were in very different places in our lives, and more specifically in very different situations regarding our lifestyles. That’s not to say we didn’t try. We really did. And in the beginning it seemed like it could possibly work. But in the end insecurity, distrust, dejection and doubt crept their way into our relationship. Neither of us were more at blame than the other–we both acted dubiously. But over time a thought planted itself in my mind and has continued to grow ever since–even up until now; Did we truly fall in love with each other or did we fall in love with the moment? So many elements played a role in making what we had so special. One of the biggest elements was Spain. It provided us with a new city to explore, an exotic ambience and a romantic atmosphere that enhanced the love in the air. Maybe Spain was our escape. Maybe it was our fairytale. Maybe it was our love song. Maybe it was our magical moment. And maybe that’s all it was. Maybe it only lived in that moment and faded the minute we left Madrid. Maybe we were fighting an un-winnable battle by trying to keep it alive with over 2,000 miles between us. Maybe... but maybe not. Maybe it was the distance between Chicago and San Luis Obispo that caused it to fade. Or maybe it didn’t have to fade. Maybe we could have tried harder. Maybe distance was just a test that we failed. The truth is that I don’t know the truth. Maybes are still just maybes. Hypotheticals are still just hypotheticals. I don’t know if I will ever know the answers. One thing I do know is, goddamn...that moment was incredible. And coming back to this city assures me that it is still alive. It might be hiding somewhere in the deepest part of our minds or hearts, but it’s still there. I feel it.

-G

Sidenote: For those who don’t hold much of a taste for all of this corny, sentimental bullsh*t: Lo siento. But there is another reason I wrote this interlude outside of my own, emotional appeal. Becoming romantically involved while studying in Madrid did have an significant effect on my travels. You see while all my buds (shoutout to Steve, Pete, Lucas, Nick, Jack, Gabe, Kyle, Ders), spent their time off from classes traveling around to other countries in Europe, I was caught up. I’ll admit it. Though I tried to justify staying in Madrid while my friends went to Germany or Hungary, by telling myself that I needed to save money or something, they were just excuses to spend time with a girl. Though I regret nothing about my time in Madrid, I do wish I had taken a few more trips outside of Spain with my boys. And though I’m traveling solo right now, I do feel like I’m making up for lost time–better yet making up for lost travels, by making my way to every European country I can in these couple of months that I’m here. Just a little sidenote. Much love.