This is not a Maraya post

 "We'll see" was my answer when you asked me if I would write today, about what has already started to change. We'll see, like when I know that I will probably not put an effort on doing it and usually things do not happen to me just because. But I was just left by myself, and it was the perfect time to try to put into words what aches in the heart in low but growing intensity. 

They left, between yesterday and today, and even if they did not leave me I pretty much feel like they did. I feel like in a few months I will look back and be frustrated because what has been everything to me will not be the same for them; although I rationally know it is not true, because I see it in how they crave for doing things together, how they seem to appreciate as much as I do this safe space we have created, by chance. 

My heart broke a little bit when yesterday I had to say goodbye to what has pretty much been a little sister this semester, and my eyes were all watery when today my savage waffle cook and the best next-door flatmate vanished from this place that now seems too big, too spacy, too quiet. Nothing has really changed because I have seated in this same place so many times before by myself when all of them were here; but now, these three will not be coming in, even if it's not to talk for a bit, even if it is between exams and with the head full of worries, or between rushing from party to party. I do not like this and I do not like that saying goodbye seems like such a small unrepresentative thing compared to the love I feel for them, and that it lasts so little in comparison to how much I lived with them. I do not like it, but here I am, with no other option than taking it. 

In a way I had easier than what it could have been, but it's also this slowly dripping torture that I will not be fully aware of until I am put in a place where I absolutely notice them not being there; when I live with someone else, when someone asks me to play "riktet gar", when I am having coffee in a living room that is not mine, in a place that is not here, with people that are not you. When I get home feeling like shit and I do not get to tell you; when I go to a party and I miss the complicity I feel with you, knowing that we will all go home together. I smile sadly thinking that whenever I storm in my room singing out loud, there is not going to be a single soul saying "yes, you are a rockstar!", or someone asking me to go to the gym, or someone wanting to explain me a crazy story about a really complicated soap-opera-kind-of-life, or someone offering waffles after getting arrested, cakes, food, COFFEE, jamón; someone to just be there with. Someone that is going to ask the important questions. Someone to complain about the lack/excess of sun with. Someone that will hear my stories about how much of a mess I am. Someone to steal milk to (and being stolen by). Someone to sing and dance with; or carry a piano across a city because we were too stubborn to give up. Someone that I know I can call in the middle of the night if I am not okay (even if I do not always know it), and that they will call me if they need to; someone to share wine and beers with, and summer rolls and crazy kitchen experiments. 

And yes, sure, there is going to be more of that, but not more of you, and that is the part that matters the most. Because I couldn't care less about what we are doing, just doing it together (and I know how cheesy it sounds, and I also hate it and love it at the same time). Summer does not set right with me; because summer is full of goodbyes and changes and endings, and I very much prefer beginnings, the start of something new, and having hugs for the first time. 

I would love to grow old and be able to tell you about all the stuff going on; to feel this is reciprocated in the way that matters. But until then I will leave you here with a pretty nice anonymous poem, and lots of love for what has to come FROM NOW ON.

"We're soaring, 

Flying, 

There's not a star in heaven that we can't reach, 

If we're trying"

And I will not say we are breaking free because the freeing experience was living with you. 

With all my love and best wishes, 

V.