Day 1

I remember it as clear as day. The long flight, the thrill, excitement, and fear that coursed through my body as I was closer by the second. Not knowing if I’d be able to visit, not knowing if I’d have to go back before my trip even began. I was scared, I admit it, and who wouldn’t be with all the stories you hear about border control? Nevertheless, I took a deep breath and let my soul rest in the hands of the universe, the hands of ‘fate’ if that’s what you’d like to call it. Looking back, I can’t believe all the things I went through, all the amazing places I saw, the beautiful memories, the passion, the thrill, and the heartbreak that I overcame. This is my story of when I visited the UK for the very first time.

April 29th, 2019

Day 1

I’m on the plane now. Earphones on and about to watch the Vincent Van Gogh movie with Willem Dafoe as the great master himself <3 It’s been a busy morning. Got up at 6 to get the last details ready and have breakfast with mom and bro. She made eggs with a hint of red pepper: delish! It was nice but not at all sentimental. Wish I’d seen a tear or two, but mom’s hard like that sometimes, although I’m not sure she’s always been so. I’ll miss her and my brother, told them so. Not the spitting image of affection myself.

The plane’s moving now. Getting in position to lift off. There’s a man sitting to my right (seems nice) and I got the window seat! My stomach’s turning, but I know it’s because of the trip. I honestly don’t know what to expect but I can only imagine it’ll be good. Scotland, England, Wales, and Ireland… lands I’ve dreamt of since I was a child. Their music, people, history and beauty, their suffering, too. None of it is indifferent to me.

I can see the coast now. It’s amazing how fast airplanes move. I was a bit hungry but thanks to Andy’s chocolate (dark chocolate <3) I am set till lunch! I’m not as nervous as before, for now. I must say that I find myself saying “Farewell”, more like “Farewell, Person-who-shall-not-be-named. I wish you well!” I wish I’d left with an empty heart (at least that area of my heart) but as it turns out, my heart is still mending and still carries memories that are fresh, memories I truly hope to forget.

(By the way, the yellowish stain on this page is just from my Van Gogh “The Starry Night” tattoo that I got right before traveling. Yes, that’s me. I got a tattoo just before traveling, which will hurt like hell and cling to my clothes, staining it and leaving bits of ink-soaked skin. Marvelous! Genius, I say #facepalm)

* * *

I can’t fall asleep. I’m not super tired but some shuteye would be good. A few hours ago, I could still see Orion from my window. Now, I can’t recognize the stars I see. Maybe it’s the position I’m in? It’s not like we’re on another planet. It’s amazing, though, isn’t it? How can we fly like this and in just a few hours? Maybe I’m just easily impressed. It’s not my first time flying, but I appreciate the magic of it nonetheless.

It’s only about an hour and a half before I arrive in Madrid. I heard Barajas is a bit uptight with passengers but I’m not really getting off there. Fingers crossed about Heathrow. Fingers crossed. Hope they believe me when I say I’m just a tourist ‘cause that’s what I am.

I keep seeing him when I dream. When I close my eyes. I know he doesn’t deserve a minute of my time or space in my mind, but there he is.