During the last few days I’ve developed an illogical attachment to this place. I am all of a sudden appreciating it’s every detail. All it has to offer and all it has offered.
Just as I make plans to move out and up into the city.
No, it doesn’t have anything to do with the clean carpet we just had somebody come in an help us with. It doesn’t have anything to do with the pain of packing, moving, and all that jazz. I am sure these things help, but I am talking about something completely different here.
It has to do with the fact that for the first time this felt like “home.” Living here has, more so than anywhere else I’ve lived before, felt like my home. OK, maybe my “home away from home”, but that is a start.
Andrew and I moved in ages ago. I don’t even remember when but it will soon be either 4 or 5 years (it was around Halloween, I do know that …) He and I both brought our own personalities to the place and shared it with other people (Chico, Autumn, Torrent …)
And then Andrew started to drift away and into the arms of a girlfriend, which left me as the main dweller and coincided (or at least it does in my mind) with my acquaintance of the Stanford Iberia crowd. Well, what would become Iberia, that is.
I have the fondest of memories of the people that we entertained here. There were some “Channing” parties early on (Ross, Alec, Idan, Autumn, Rachel, Scott …), but mostly there’s been lots of spanish folks that have come in and out, here today gone tomorrow, sharing wonderful joyous time with us, devoted their culinary mastery to the pleasures of multiple guests, and overall shared their lives together.
The soccer will always be remembered the best, but I’ll say it again like I always have, the soccer is only an excuse to get us all together. Proof positive of that is how many games for teams I would have never stopped to even ask the score for in my life in Spain I have otherwise watched here.
Lots of Barça debacles (the triumphs I kind of skimmed over.) More Deportivo games than I can remember. A few Sevilla games, the occasional Atletico de Madrid. Whatever people wanted to see, name it, I watched it with them.
And I entertained their presence. Folks have always been welcome here. The food, the drink. All was at their disposal, and some felt at home as much as I did here. Even people I had never met would be included, all they had to do is ask politely what the deal was and they were in.
The movies, less frequent yet just as interesting as the soccer matches, have also made a mark. Setting up a home theater was part of the experience, sharing it with the roommates and closest friends was what made it all worth it. Looking at photos collectively was also part of that fun.
Having people visit was key as well. My parents, Maneu and Rodri, Lidia, Juan Luis y Begoña. All of them properly taken care of thanks to the large rooms and common living areas.
Two (or was it three) girlfriends. Five or six large dinner parties, numerous small ones. One gut wrenching graduation-farewell bash.
Will that one be the last? Should I turn the page and start a new chapter? This has been the best one so far, and I am afraid it still has life in it but I am getting ready to kill it dry. Let it slide into oblivion.
Why do something that is so hard to do?