SPOILER ALERT: Highly nostalgic and dramatic post, turn on a violin soundtrack and abandon all hope ye who enter.
The first Monday of January, aka the worst combo in the history of the universe, had me thinking about the sadly-now-over Christmas holidays, which, surprise surprise, I have spent back home in Milan. As much as I know that Milan is not the Promised Land, it is still my home (a very blurry concept anyway, already discussed here) therefore forgive me if, with the help of Monday 4th January and a strong talent for drama, I experienced a rather excruciating moment of melancholy and I nostalgically recalled all the things I have left in Milan.
In Milan there’s a little street with wisteria on one side and palms on the other, and overlooking the palms there’s my house.
In Milan there’s a bicycle that waits in a basement to relive the past glories and I, only this December, a year from last time, managed to clean it up and bring her out to the Italian sunlight.
In Milan there’s a group of friends since forever, and they’re far on the map but not on Whatsapp.
In Milan there’s a family made up of a lot of big humans and two little ones, who came along just after I moved out of the country, so it seems legit to spend the whole Christmas Day playing with them, to make up for the time lost. I beg your forgiveness, over-four relatives!
In Milan there’s a lot of pretty buildings and newly renovated areas which my crappy phone and my non-existent artistic eye cannot do justice to, to the point that I had to beg a friend for a picture!
In Milan there’s a lot of stuff that changes but, touch wood, stays there. That makes your heart feel a bit lighter because coming back, if and when you feel like it, is always an option.
Happy New Year, wishing you have your own Milan to go back to!
PS: new year promotions, all of those who’ll click on that pretty “Follow Bilinguismi” button, will be given a free shot of vodka, essential to deal with THE DRAMA!