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There Is Something So Dangerously Appealing About A Single Life

a single life

I forgot how intimidating it felt to know that your current emptiness is only temporary. That you’ll soon be filled with a storm of thoughts that not even I can currently anticipate. I guess, as always, we’ll have to write and see.

I know I haven’t written to you in a long time, but I haven’t forgotten about our traditions. So rest assured, I’m alone again at a random bar, this time in Barcelona, and a red Catalan wine that I don’t remember the name of is having a somewhat excessive impact on this conversation.

I can’t help but wonder what you’d like to read about or where I should begin. But this indecisiveness is most likely a reflection of my lack of drowsiness.

So let me take a sip break and let the grape juice do the talking.

Where were we? You’ve missed an entire year of changes. New country, new city, new job, new colleagues, new friends, new men… What was that? You want me to tell you about the latter? How very typical of us.

Well, if you must know, men have come and gone. Or, to be brutally honest, men have come, and I’ve gone. Far.

There is something so dangerously appealing about single life in Barcelona. About a single life in general. So I’m left with no heart vacancies and yet a lot of work to be done. I am, however, left with a lot of room to explore.

A year ago, I told you I would never try the swiping trick. I feel obliged to confess that I now have. And what can I say?

The most interesting thing I found was that for every five or six left swipes, there’s always a man declaring that his most controversial opinion is not liking pineapple on pizza.

But how could I ever complain? I’m supposed to be a writer, and my smartest introductory caption was a list of three emojis intended to define my full personality. Yikes.

And the first big move in these relationships? A simple question: “should we move this to Instagram?”

*Delete account*

But it’s not all that bad. In fact, for every bad decision (and by “bad decision,” I mean, a very immature boy and an even worse yet thankfully quick night), there has been an incredible man.

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How is it possible that we learn so much from ourselves when we meet certain people? I’m thankful for the insanely deep connections. Some more lasting than others. I’m grateful to have felt such an extreme level of passion, even knowing that our bond was only temporary.

As for right now? I’m just as excited as I am scared because I know the goodbye is coming. But I also know that’s why I’m savoring every single skin-to-skin with him. And it tastes good.

As for tomorrow? I’ll leave that one to my therapist.

There’s so much more. So much that I’m starting to find it hard to send more properly structured sentences from my brain to my fingers. But to be honest, that could also be the wine.

It was good to catch up. I’ll write to you sooner than in a year this time. I promise.

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