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Photo: Staffan Romberger
I had just returned to KTH after a year in Madrid. Filled with memories, the big love, and a lot of new strengths. The sun tan had started fading, but the experiences were still there.
On Tuesdays and Thursdays I had lunch with Borja and Pablo from Barcelona, just to keep the Spanish alive, and on the weekends I wrote letters to Marielle.
When I got home I thought that maybe I would accomplish a great deal and finish the last of the studies. Then came life and the Red Cross and demanded it’s attention. And I guess I got stuck a bit in all that. Took several months before I realized that I had to return to Madrid.
I had some changing years behind—both in appearance and in the way to think. The hair had become some decimeters longer and I had gotten a preference for yellow jeans. The friends from long ago could pass me on the street without recognizing me, just like if you had never known each other. A bit strange, but at the same time my big proof of change.
And maybe I have always strived for change. For being someone else, to grow, to develop... Just as if a life should be filled with births.
And you never reach the end. Because every big change will eventually only become the beginning of something new. Something long awaited, prepared for a long time, and suddenly just happening.
Evidently you shouldn’t think that you can control your life.