It has been a whole year since I got off a plane to an armful of sunflowers. 365 days, and now I live in a city full of hills, bougainvillea and power lines, and life looks so very different to what it did before. What a year. What a life.
I have been thinking lately that all we really are are our hearts, and we only walk around pretending like we think about anything other than love. I do not know what else there could be to think about. I get home at 4 in the afternoons and I lie on my carpet made of more colours than I ever thought I could like at once, and I spend hours lying there turning this over. I do not know how everyone else seems satisfied with what they have. I am always hungry for more, and I do not know what love would be needed to sate me. I do not know how to understand that no one understands me when I speak about love.
I am taking myself to a different state this weekend where there is coffee, good chocolate and bars giving out free shots of mezcal. For the past month I have been collecting a list of all the places I need to see from all the people that help me figure out where my bus stop is, and where to get fresh water. People are good for so many kinds of things that sometimes it makes me want to cry.
I have been thinking about high school a lot- how I would sit in a class with paint splatters on the desk and speak about the life I would have to someone that already didn’t understand me, that didn’t let me understand her. The past 365 days have been as heavy, as soul-drenching and as filled with new and shiny feelings as would have made even that 16 year old dreamer happy, I think.
I say all I think about is love, and it is true. But that was also true of the girl who believed those flowers meant something they didn’t a year ago, and I do not know if her and I are even on speaking terms anymore. Love is good for as many things as people. Someday, I will say this to someone and they will understand.
I still eat olives more than I should, and I nurse my plants back to health. I clean my dishes as soon as I am finished with them, and it makes me feel like maybe I will figure the rest of it out soon. I know how to say the days of the week in more languages than I did a year ago. Limes are cheaper than bread here. It is all nothing short of a sun-soaked dream. I do not know if I could be any happier than I am right now. And I do not know why that makes me so sad.