mi sueño viejo de Madriz

You can't go home again.

Or can you?

Today, I went back to Toledo, where I lived my first time in Spain in 2003. It was amazing how much that city feels like home to me. It feels like home in a way that Kentucky and Madrid never have (maybe cause I visited Madrid so much when living in Toledo and Linares that I always have felt like a tourist here.)

It was like I had never left. No, the jerk who I kept in touch with for five years and who stopped talking to me after the night we stayed out all night waiting for the bus to Madrid wasn't working at the Phone House, nor did I see anyone I really recognised. But everything was still the same...well, more had changed in the two years since my last time here than in the five years between living there and my return to Spain. The construction that was going on in 2003 and still going on in 2008 was finally over...and an awesome new set of escalaras mecanicas. I stopped in at Palacios...where we ate at every night in Toledo....and lo and behold, one of the waiters was still there, seven years later. I didn't ask him if he remembered the group, but he did speak to me as if he recognised me from somewhere but couldn't place where. I mean...I'm 115 pounds less than when he knew me, for one, and for two, it's been seven years. (And I need to lose about 10 pounds right now, DAMN YOU PRINCIPE COOKIES).

This week, a major chapter of my life is coming to an end. The Madrid chapter. I've been doing all kinds of last things that I won't get to do on a normal visit here. And I'm sad. Once upon a time, as an overweight 21 year-old repressed gay boy living in Toledo, Chueca and Madrid were the dream. Chueca had this overpowering feeling of freedom and acceptance, it seemed. I never went out in Chueca until September 2008, five years later and thinner. But walking through Plaza de Chueca and seeing the gay Spaniards created this image in my mind.

I think I might be the only gay male who comes to Madrid and becomes more closeted and repressed. It's always been hard for me to tell others that I'm gay, and now I'm barely able to say it to other gay people...back at where I was when I was 22. Madrid and Chueca would've been so good for me when I was 23. Now? I'm wanting to settle down with my principe azul and build a life, wake up next to him on a daily basis, and just have that stability. From what I understand, this weekend's Pride, which I'll miss, is pretty much an orgy. Not for me. I've never been to a pride, but now the only thing I'll regret missing is Kylie Minogue's concert.

Madrid is an amazing, vibrant city on the outside, and I will miss it a ton. But on the inside, it's lacking so much of what makes Spain Spain. Sure, there is tortilla, guapos, fútbol and the crisis, but being a capital city, it has to conform so much to other European capitals in so much that the visitor doesn't see. Like that infamous song says about New York...live here once, but leave before it makes you hard. It's so hard to find true friends, people who care...let alone a decent boyfriend.

This year, I have learned a ton about myself, and I look forward to applying it to the future in Valencia. I do have a wall up around me that is hard to break down, but it is so worth it to try as much as possible to break it down. If your roommates are jerks, and the flat is expensive and in a SHITTY neighbourhood, go to a cheaper place with more understanding roommates. Tell the boy you like that you like him, so when he doesn't like you back you can move on much easier and appreciate a friendship for what it is instead of second guessing every move. You can't close yourself off to others. And you gotta travel and not sit online making travel plans for trips you have to cancel (took two canceled trips to Santander to finally go!)

There have been so many amazing memories too. Holidays and nights at the disco and new friends and some students who I'll never forget.

All this leads me to my next move. After a month of working at a summer camp, I'll be going to Valencia to try to strike my luck there. A lot of random signs (including meeting a very hot doctor from Valenciano who melted when I said "molt be"!) A new city, a fresh perspective and hopefully working on my master in Spanish and learning some catalandigovalenciano will keep me busy and optimistic. Gotta lose those ten pounds and tone. Gotta learn that Alejandro choreography. Gotta learn to let go. Gotta learn to let people in to know the awesome person, as I'm sure my principe azul would hate for me to miss him.

I may have hit rock bottom this spring in Madrid, but that only means that I can go up from here. And to go out to the places I will be from...most likely Valencia :) Molt bè, m'agrada València...i els valencians.