Dearest reader,
I can’t stop thinking about Milan. In fact, my ability to focus on anything other than what happened or is happening in Milan has vanished. I am completely uninterested in my life out of Milan which has never even existed there.
So, how am I suppose to get over this trip? How am I suppose to accept this turn of events that five days isn’t forever after all? Did I assume I would magically stay in Milan?
Maybe.
Silly, isn’t it.
I know that this trip cannot be compared to everyday life. I know that this experience was a romanticized highlight intensified by my over imaginative mind. So safe yourself the trouble of reminding me of reality. But on the other hand, it is true that my brain has not been blessed with practical logic. Therefore, of course, I also secretly expect to see the Duomo from my doorstep… even in Finland.
Consequently, if given the opportunity, I would go back to Milan in a heartbeat, to prove it can be wonderful again. And more than anything, I want to go back for the pain and for the joy in between because what makes something wonderful isn’t always about the excess of good, but the capasity to wonder.
Someday.
One day.
Barely.
I might recover from this trip. But I might not want to.
And one morning.
There is a message from me hastily written:
Gone to Milan. Don’t worry about my flowers, I haven’t any.
(Location: Palazzo Morando, Milan)
Have you experieced similar post trip blues after visiting another country?
Yours truly,
Siiri
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