If Men Were Like Madrid …

It’s been a long time since I’ve written by hand. A long time since I could find the time to sit and drink wine, write, and be alone. I love this life: simple, cozy and yet luxurious. I want this feeling of ease and tranquility to surround and embody me always.

I live around the corner on a busy street, Calle Magdalena, but I spent the last hour walking. Strolling the Madrid streets in no rush to be anywhere, but here – alone.

It’s the first time in a long time that I stopped to listen to the beautiful music in the street and smile at the passion of the musicians. I’ve missed being alone like this. And sometimes I feel that in relationships this feeling is what I yearn for. This sense of self. A reminder of who I was, am, and will be.

To live in Madrid is to live in a constant state of pleasure. The beautiful plazas, wonderful food, and this sensation that life can be as easy or as difficult as you make it.

I can sit for hours enjoying the day, and at night leave my window open to fill my room with all that is Madrid.

I’m in love with this city – all of its flaws and all of its energy. I fantasize about it – the American idealization of it. All of it, for me, becomes real.

What I love about my relationship with Madrid is that it accepts who I was, am and will be. There’s no judgement.

If men could be like Madrid maybe I’d stay with them longer.

I’ve been in love with more than one man before, but only one city. And just like in relationships – I know I soon will have to leave Madrid. Not forever, but for months out of the year. Strange how relationships end, or I guess end isn’t the right word – they change.

Change from infatuation to like, to like to love, to love to like, and from like to friends. I guess Madrid and I are about to become friends, only seeing each other three months out of the year. The beauty of this friendship; however, is that I know Madrid will always let me back into her arms unconditionally. She loves me as much as I love her.

If men were like Madrid life would be easier.

I never feel lonely in Madrid – it forever gives me what I need: independence, adventure, strength, experience, support, honesty, and loyalty. Every narrow cobblestone street supports me, each door I open opens easily, and every morning her sun salutes me.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to be alone with Madrid. And it’s times like these, sitting in a cafe watching her that I truly feel at ease.

If men were like Madrid I would always be in love.

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