On the move

I’ve just hopped on the bus to Milan.

The tears are shedding light.

Since my childhood, leaving this place has broken me into a thousand pieces that somehow are still holding strong. And I believe it is because I know I’ll come back.

This is the place that has been a reference point for all my life. And it is the same place I can’t imagine living in for longer than a couple of months.

I feel so blessed that I could go back home, create memories, share laughter, hugs, coffees, proseccos, cigarettes and wishes. I even shared a kiss – the first one in months.

I feel blessed that, for once, I didn’t miss a big event because of distance or work. I still feel honoured having been the maid of honour at Manu&Ahmi’s wedding.

After 9 years, I’ve managed to celebrate Easter in Italy with my beloved ones. It translates into chocolate eggs, Colomba, Pastiera and wine. It means giving and receiving.

On Easter Monday, everyone wears sporty clothes and it is all about Lasagna, grilling meat and sausages, and wine – wine rivers. And there’s karaoke and stupid dances. And lots of bullshit is said.

I had lunch with my mother. We had a ball!

I love her. I still believe she’s the best part of me. And I can’t tell you how much it pisses me off to deal with her disease instead of her soul.

I’m going back to Berlin.

This return is a watershed between an incredibly hard and often hopeless period and a new beginning.

What if this year is nothing but a new growth opportunity?