Some things I wanted to tell you about because life has been a mix of different and wonderful.
Quiet nights at home, with soft lighting, jazz in the background, and the whirl of the washing machine. There have been nights, which I spent at the bar of an art-house cinema, drinking Japanese whiskey — Nikka blended, my favorite — waiting for Jackie, 21 x New York, or El Arca de Noé to start. Sweet and bitter; hot and cold; a bit of everything. Kyklop saw me three or four times, the stomping ground of the Balkan subculture where everyone comes together to drink Macedonian wine and Travarica (the Queen of all rakijas), and smoke homegrown weed. Rock’n’roll and blues and ex-Jugo songs. It’s not for everyone but it’s everything to us.
Unrelated but related, I passed all my exams; finished the winter semester two weeks earlier than I thought I would. We celebrated with a mint-apple shisha and after that life took a walk on the wild side. You were there somewhere at the start of it and less and less frequently afterward. Now not at all, and I think, this time you are gone for good.
I find comfort in that thought, even though, it made me feel good, at least for a while, that you wanted to know. Bits and pieces of me, of who I am now, who I’ve become. But you are wrong, very much wrong if you think that I changed at all. I would have loved to tell you more; things that have been on mind, things that have been happening. Everything. Except. I no longer want to share anything with you. This feeling is unknown to me but it’s here to stay. I know this.
January didn’t feel like a beginning of a new year; it didn’t feel like much of anything actually. What mattered greatly, though, was going home for Christmas, which was a greater gift to me than all the Christmas gifts in the world. To be home, by the sea, with all the blue, and finally, to be home with family. When everything else fails, the family remains, and I think that is the only lesson worth remembering.
Everything else will follow.