Last night I dreamt of Spain. That’s not unusual but it’s been awhile and it makes me long for the country even more than I already do. It’s kind of funny because in my dream Krzysztof was with me as well. He’s my absolute favorite person I met this summer in Europe, which might sound strange but honestly this 76-year-old Polish man is amazing. I enjoyed having him with us a lot and I actually miss him more than I think I realized until now.
It strikes me as kind of odd that when it comes to Spain I miss the place, I miss Madrid and Toledo and Sevilla, the elegant buildings, the dry heat, and the beautiful countryside. I miss the millions of outdoor cafes and the Prado and the palaces. But when I think about Poland, I miss Jerzy and Krzysztof and Pawel and Ewa and Lukasz. Not that Poland wasn’t a beautiful country but I guess I just connected more with the people there whereas in Spain my closest friends were American or British or Italian.
I got off topic somewhere, or lost where I actually wanted to go with this. I think that makes me a terrible blogger maybe, I suppose I don’t really care though. Basically my heart aches for Europe, I’m so bored and disenchanted with America and ready to take a leave of absense.