by Kate Hodge
I am in mourning. I sit here in this building that has so quickly become my home, next to a friend that has begun to feel like family, which terrifies me. I search my mind for the words and definitions for every emotion I am feeling and beg it to form sentences that could convey just what these past three weeks have meant to me. I feel betrayed by my own heart, for allowing myself to become so attached to this place and these nine people so quickly.
Barcelona was never somewhere I felt called to. It was a spur-of-the-moment idea and a last-minute decision. I supposed the timing was right, a big adventure to kick off my senior year. I thought three weeks would be long enough to enjoy sites and not get too homesick. However, I was not prepared for the way I would be impacted by this city, as though I were hit by a city bus full of emotions and excitement.
From the vibrant buildings, old and new, to the passion for food, music, and culture, I was at home. I fell in love with each part of the city and all the unique characteristics it has. I woke up excited to uncover some hidden gem the locals love or see something touristy and obvious, eager to savor every sound, smell, or meal that was always served with pride and care. Barcelona taught me more about myself in three weeks than I had ever learned in three years of college.
I yearn for the smell of the streets, the aroma of damp cobblestones and cigarettes. I long for the independence and peace I found even as I stood amongst massive crowds of people, all going about their day. I ache for a two-dollar coffee and croissant before heading to class, feeling inspired by the world and peers around me.
Each person is different, contrasting against the others, yet so similar you can predict their next move. And each person has found themselves in love, ready to move and die for this city that we have inhabited for three weeks. We know the metro lines like the veins under our skin, always drumming quietly in us. We frequent our favorite spots, drinking from fountains and pretending to be locals so that one day our wish may come true. We venture to unknown places on unplanned outings and journey together in unison, laughing at each wrong turn and stopping for every coffee, photo, or random gift shop.
I haven’t had many opportunities to connect with people in this way; I have always found new friendships to be fleeting and temporary once you leave your childhood bubble. But with this particular group, I feel a connection that just might last forever. To my familia, words aren’t enough to express how much I love each of you, and can’t wait until we are all together in Barcelona again.
