California · Expat · International · life · Lifestyle · Los Angeles · Loss · Love · Philosophy · Psychology

Nothing is Permanent: 365 days since I left Barcelona

A year ago today, I set foot on that plane in Barcelona with five suitcases to return to my hometown of LA. Today, my reflections of that year are more positive than the day I got into the taxicab en route to the airport.

  

what remains are memories
  
The trail of tears began as my ex accompanied me to the airport. I was unable to stop crying as I entered the international departures area. The police officers asked that I take my sunglasses off, only to discover that a grown man with a beard is sobbing (and nothing wrong with that). The flight attendants treaded lightly around me as they noticed that with each serving of wine, the saga continued. I think the flow finally stopped when I landed in Miami for my connecting to LA. That is when I decided to get an airport massage and the wonderful lady at the spa noticed my puffy eyes and offered cucumbers. Things started coming together. The realization that even strangers are there for me was a restoration of faith in humanity. The light was visible at the end of that airport tunnel. I would soon be in LA, where beautiful souls, such as my friends and family, who would support me and have my back.

 

streets of Barri Gotic
 
A year later, in reflection, just as in my previous article “Loss of a Bag“, leaving Barcelona was a humongous loss. It was a loss of identity, space, people, culture, and the list can go on.

365 days later, I am attempting to create an adventure filled story that in due time when and if I decide to ever leave Los Angeles, that flight too will have memories that I will have difficulty of letting go and perhaps mourn about. The most important lesson for me here is live each day, create memories, be ready to let go of experiences. Nothing is permanent. Memories are, but those too, are fallible.

  

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3 thoughts on “Nothing is Permanent: 365 days since I left Barcelona

  1. Leaving is so hard. Coming back reminds me of leaving again, too, and how lucky I was to meet people who became my family. I write you from Barcelona, my love! I’m visiting, and I wish you were too. I have another home now, as you do, too. But you’re here, I feel you. We’re always with each other, and that’s pretty special. Love you Armen xo

    Liked by 1 person

  2. One of the hardest things to accept in life is that nothing is permanent. This also means that we treasure the present even more, because it is fleeting and temporary. You are a brave and inspiring person, Armen!!!

    Like

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