I know, I miss you! Ugh, Vale, Mamá and Papá are driving me bananas.
Vale
It’s been one week.
Carla
I think I need my own place.
Vale
Go stay with Abuela for a few days.
Carla
I’m picking her up in an hour. We’re going to look at apartments.
Vale
Wow! Did you tell Mamá you’re moving out?
Carla
Abuela is my buffer. I’ll tell Mamá after I find a place. Hopefully, today.
Vale
good luck on all of it.
Valencia is both how I remembered yet completely different. It’s strange to be in my hometown and know that this isn’t a visit, it’s my new reality.
In the past, I’d float through for a handful of days, riding a natural high. I was giddy to visit my family and join them for Christmas or Fallas—Valencia’s legendary celebration that serves as a giant street party. Nearly every corner displays enormous, incredible, artistic sculptures that are set on fire and burn through the night of March 19.
I showed up for milestone events, like Abuela’s eightieth birthday party and Valentina and Avery’s second wedding in Spain. I made appearances for Alejandro’s big games or my cousin Rafa’s races in Barcelona.
But that giddiness that buoyed me through the visits, that made me ache with nostalgia when I boarded my flight back to Chicago, is absent.
I’ve been back in Valencia for seven days and each hour is plagued with a heaviness I hate. There is no structure or purpose. No excitement or challenges. Nada.
Mamá and Papá are thrilled that I’m back home and don’t understand my disappointment. Papá has mentioned opportunities to train with Spanish teams and try for a call up to the national team. He keeps encouraging me to go to the gym, the park, the soccer field. Condition, train, play fútbol. Meanwhile, Mamá brings me around town to shop, have lunch, and visit with her friends. They both mean well but I’m…somehow simultaneously adrift and stuck.
Abuela has been a softer place to land.
We look at a handful of apartments and I consider myself supremely lucky when I find one I love, right near the Parque Turia, with a move in date of February 1.
Now, I just have to tell my parents.
January 23
Marlowe
I hear your mom and dad are finally coming around to the idea that you’re moving out.
Carla
What did Ale say?
Marlowe
