Oh what a whirl this week has been, to Paris and back to Barcelona earlier than expected. I won’t reiterate my rather horrible experience but the city was too cold and I was too sick, it drove me near crazy. There is a man that makes me smile and a dog I was blissfully happy to return to. There is a street called Diagonal and early morning sunshine, walks in suede tabacco skirts and soy coffee in similar shades. It seems after being away for so many years, Spain came back into my life, well by choice but it stuck and for now, I’m here to stay. This is rather monumental for an indecisive girl like me, I’m always between places, switching fickle between favourites and swapping preferences like scarves. Barcelona used to make me miss Paris, but now, Paris makes me miss Barcelona. That’s an entire 360, a cyclical upturn quite unlikely in my life ; and seeing as this blog long ago morphed into the diary of a girl trying to grow up, I thought I should note this shift here for you to read. I’m optimistic in that every post matures me an inch, every pair of shoes featured is one step nearer to the woman I know is inside me. And so, my unpredictability has slowed from sprint to jog for now; I cannot help but congratulate myself on this sudden pause where I feel no need to run away but simply, stay. But then I read this back and fear I’m writing in riddles, which make sense I suppose, as my emotions usually reflect that way.