Busted!

I'm a cheater! I'm a terrible horrible jerk! I'm moving back to España ( J ), but I'm moving to Barcelona this time around ( L ) - yes, only emoticons can properly express how I feel about that. Don't get me wrong, I'm very excited to live in Barcelona, and I'm especially excited to be returning to my home away from home, Spain. But there's this strange guilty feeling that won't leave me. Probably just another case of Catholic guilt, but it hurts. It really hurts. I feel like I'm cheating on my real boyfriend, Madrid.

Madrid was my first love. Madrid is where I fell in love with Spain, but something was also missing in Madrid. And that would be a boy. A very nice boy. I'm getting old. I'm ready to let go of my crazy single life and be a little bit more serious. Now don't get any ideas and think this move means I'm getting married soon (sick!), but I guess it's okay for me to say that I'm working in that direction. Again, it doesn't mean Francisco is the "one" (thank god he doesn't speak English and can't read this blog), but this will definitely be a fun, good, and interesting experience for me. For a lack of a better word and the fact that "serious" stuff makes me nervous and nauseous, this is a, ummm, resume builder.

Leaving Madrid breaks my heart. I will miss the energetic atmosphere, La Latina tapas/cañas hopping, the very efficient clean Metro, the close proximity of everything, and the Castellano-only language. But most of all, I will miss my friends and my roommates. For me, they are Spain. Without them, I wouldn't love it as much as I do and I can't wait to visit them the first chance (or money) that I get.

Ultimately, your first love just prepares you for the next one. You gotta go through some heartache first before you realize what's really good for you. Maybe this act of infidelity will be a brief one and eventually turn into true love.