Last year I said “best birthday ever”. Sometimes I have to be careful about the things I say because I just may one-up myself and wouldn’t you know, I sure as fuck did.

One of my besties was kind enough to come stay with R so I could have a handful of days away. When you’re armed with co-conspirators who know how special and deserving this is, paired with the fortune, privilege and sheer will to make something happen, on the morning of my 49th birthday I woke up in a nest of white linen in Barcelona. Wide eyed, fingers in my hair, church bells ringing in the skies.

Truth be told, I could have gone somewhere else but I fell in love with this city so hard and there isn’t enough time to see and do it all – especially when you’re very distracted by such beautiful company. I needed seconds. And thirds.

This time we…

Touched the Mediterranean and collected rocks and sea glass on her shores
Bathed in sunset light and marveled inside La Sagrada Familia. A stained glass and stone masterpiece that photos will never do justice of.
Rode cable cars over the harbor up to a Spanish Castle
Drank sangria and laughed in a bar from 1820 that once housed the likes of Picasso for my birthday
Wandered around a flea market looking for treasures
Shared: delicious food, walks, glances, firsts, words, alleys, art, music, hearts, souls, sin, bubble baths, vulnerable exchanges, wonder and breaths in/on/up against cathedral walls
Laughed, connected, soaked, touched, talked, slept, worshipped, wondered, marveled, imbibed, cried and sighed… with this absolutely magnificent city as our stage.

Such are the moments where the arrivals are brimming with excitement and anticipation. Reunions like no time went by and goodbyes that are a haunting and heartbreaking lullaby. They feel like that moment you put on a song because you already know it is going to reach right into your ribcage and hurt you so good. And then the time to part ways arrives and you feel like a piece of you goes to another part of the world while you take your salt clad lips home. It is all rather poetic in its own, very special way ~ and definitely not for the weak. But I see it this way, I would rather have fleeting moments of exceptional than a lifetime of average. It treats me well. So well I don’t know how to take it in at times and all I can do is brim with tears because I have never felt peace and care like this. Who knew it took a pandemic, hardship and flying half way across the world to collect some of these pieces of myself again. I knew it was going to be good but what I didn’t expect was that this would be even better than before.

And this is what it was… Another monumental set of beautifully effortless memories. Another perfect, Spanish Autumn. A standing ovation.


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