I’m on a train that’s heading south in a country that’s far away from home and I’m anxiously waiting to arrive so I can be in a place I’ve always wanted to be. I look out the window and everything is melting into each other as all the sceneries, colors, and textures are becoming swirls while I’m flying through space at 300 kilometers per hour, but my mind perceives time to be moving by so slowly. I think of the things I have planned, the places I’ll soon be visiting, the art I’ve yet to see, and my heart beats faster and faster until I finally arrive to my destination, a city I’ve waited my whole life to see.
“Do you need a taxi?”
“Yes, thank you.”
It’s 2 o’clock when I arrive to the building I’m staying at temporarily, where as soon as I open the front door I set down my bags to head towards the double glass doors that open to the terrace. My eyes are in awe as I begin to grin like a child whose received the present of a lifetime, and I start to laugh at the fact that I’ve fallen in love at first sight with not a person, nor a thing, but a place that’s rich with culture and history. I am trying to hold back my tears of elation from falling as golden hour hits the opposite side of the buildings I’m viewing from the rooftop of my temporary apartment in Rome, Italy.
“Scusa, where can I find a bigger size of this?”
The salesperson gestures me to the direction of the perfume I am going to purchase; its musky sweet scent serves as a reminder of where I was and who I was during my 222 hour stay in the country. I am walking down cobbled streets full of life, staring at the intricacies of the buildings that surround me, going in and out of museum galleries and eating in restaurants where a glass of something white is always ordered. The world is bright as I smile in public and talk to strangers when they ask where I come from, how long I’m there for, and why I chose Rome.
“In the white of her palm is your heart…”
It’s 2AM as I stand on the terrace of my apartment and I can’t help but lovingly stare at the stars that hover above me in the dark sky. The cool air does not phase me for I am realizing where I am in the world; I am 24 years old and far away from everything I know to be true yet I feel so satisfied with life in this moment. I am aware of the fact that this will become a cherished memory for me to reflect on when I begin to wither away, so I close my eyes and rest my hand upon my heart as “Astronaut” by Beach House softly emits into the atmosphere,“I’ll be brave for a while, I won’t bring you down anymore than you are…”
“We are closing, please exit St. Peter’s Basilica.”
I am listening to Oneohtrix Point Never’s “Chrome Country” on my headphones when I hear muffled voices announce our time is up, but I feel the room’s energy shift as I close my eyes and my inner monologue starts. I am asking for my life to unfold the way I want it to, I am asking to become the woman I know I can be; I am asking for my dreams to come true because I need something to believe in, I need my faith to stay alive so the momentum of my life can keep going. I feel the tears well up as the combination of organs, piano keys, and choir come to a close when I finally open my eyes to see an officer has been standing in front of me the entire time. I turn to look at him while he stares straight down the central corridor of the church, and immediately feel gratitude towards the fact that he did not disturb a peaceful moment in time. I quietly turn to walk down the golden ivory nave, hoping that my wishes have been heard as I exit out to the Vatican City.
“Now you’re lost, lost in the heat of it all, lost in the thrill of it all…”
We’re walking arm in arm through the streets of Rome singing along to Frank Ocean in a drunken haze, but we only feel the pleasures of ecstasy and joy while music emits from my phone. There are others who are still out too, barely ending their evening and waiting to be picked up as the street lights and storefronts illuminate the sidewalks, but we suddenly decide take a detour and walk towards the Trevi Fountain at 4AM. We go down the path leading to our destination when we run into strangers who greet us with their arms open wide; I walk into the embrace of someone who begins to lift me up, and as I’m spun around I hold on for life while laughter fills the air.
“I thought I left Tuesday, I actually leave tomorrow.”
A text sent at 1:14PM as I rushed to pack up all of my belongings amidst the sudden realization that my trip was coming to an end and I’d be leaving a place that felt like home soon. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. Be strong. Focus. The morning becomes a blur as I take things off hangers and hooks to roll it all up into the suitcases; I pack things as precisely as I can, as methodically as time allows me to before I have to continue on with the intended plans for the day. I proceed to clean out the kitchen, throwing things into trash cans and washing dirty dishes from the night before, when I finally sit down to write out my final postcard for someone that managed to leave an imprint on my heart.
“Your brother said to not buy her any more jewelry.”
“I know but this is different, who's to say I’ll be back here again?”
“Don’t say that, one never knows about the future.”
I say nothing in return, but I feel my heart clench and hope for my mother to be right.
“This is the last one, let’s do it together.”
I close my eyes and make a wish to come back to a place where my heart feels full and I focus on its beating rhythm to remember how it felt to stand in front of a beautiful monument for the last time. We toss the coin into the fountain and the plopping sound is drowned out by the force of the water crashing in the background, but my heart is thumping in sync to a Sylvia Plath quote from The Bell Jar, “I am, I am, I am.”
It is 3AM at the Trevi where there are only a couple individuals left, but one by one they begin to fall away and soon enough it’s just us two, sitting right in front of a landmark that dates back to the eighteenth century, in a city whose population is 4 million. Time is going by fast now, and with each second that passes I feel my heart break over and over in little increments. I look around one more time to take it all in, to remember the moment in which it was just us two in the world while everyone else was fast asleep, before getting up to reluctantly continue on towards the apartment.
“Take care, tell me when you’ve arrived okay?”
I go in for an embrace and I wish I didn’t have to go. I want to stay here no matter how much of a struggle it would be for me to actually acclimate to this foreign city. I want time to freeze, I want the world to stop spinning just for a minute. I want there to be more time for me. I want the world to revolve around me. I want to say, “Please don’t let me go,” but instead I walk down and watch her get into the car and drive off in the middle of the night.
“Ciao!”
It’s 4AM again as I head to Fiumicino Airport and my headphones are up high, but I can’t focus because I’m feeling anxious about missing my flight. I’m worried about something and nothing, but I’m thinking about everything and I’m hoping I didn’t leave anything behind, yet I secretly do because I want to leave a piece of me in hopes that one day I’ll return to find it; the part of me who became a different person in a city that’s 6,239 miles away from home.
“Grazie mille,”
I say to the taxi driver who helps me with my suitcases. I look back to make sure I’m not leaving anything as I close the car door, grab my things, and head toward the automatic sliding entrance.
I’ll come back.
My heart slowly thumps to the rhythm of a promise I have made to return to a city that showed me what it meant to be alive.
