Dear Lisbon,
I do miss you. I think of you often, and the time we shared. Your beauty – the hills, the river, the architecture and art. The food – bacalao a bras, grilled fish, pasteis de nata. Sublime. We share an understanding, you and I, of the need for wild things, for green spaces to wander. And we have our practical side – that a bus or a taxi or a ride on the metro should be easy to find and cheap to take. Nothing should keep us from where we want to go, whenever we want to go. You get me.
We had our differences. I will never really speak your language. I get that now. I thought it would work, that I could put the time in and the magic would happen. I see that was just pride. I need a language that is simpler, rounder, familiar. And I know I'm a little loud for you, and maybe I talk to strangers far too much for your comfort. It’s a habit that is hard to break.
Know this though -- I think of you fondly, and I will see you again.
With love
Raine
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