Muchas gracias, Barcelona

This coastline, these waves, this sand, these people, this world.

I sat near the waves and thought back to all the days I had dreamed about this. I watched the sea—the vastness, the blueness, the beauty. I stood at the shore and let the water run over my feet. The coldness cut through my toes, but all I could feel was pure happiness. I didn’t want to run away from the water; I wanted to run towards it.

This life, all of this, didn’t feel real. I looked around, seeing people going about their lives—some on vacation, some in their daily routines—and I wondered, are they feeling the immense joy I’m feeling? Am I the only one overwhelmed by a dream that once seemed so distant but has now become my reality?

How often do you find yourself wondering if others are experiencing the same emotions as you, seeing the world through your lens?

We all have fantasies—the ones we hold onto, even if they never happen, just to comfort ourselves when we sleep.

But now that this fantasy had become real—the ability to travel so freely and independently, to go anywhere I wanted—it was hard to fully grasp that I was truly here.

The wind blew, the waves gathered, and all I wanted was to be carried by them. To float on the water and look up at the sky, to feel so free, so alive.

There, in the city of Barcelona, right along the shores of the Mediterranean Sea, I felt like I could burst with the intensity of how life could change in a blink of an eye.

I wanted to run like a child, to play with the waves. I buried my legs in the sand and wished I could bury my whole body and let the waves wash over me.

I let myself soak it all in because, ever since I arrived in France, I hadn’t had a single moment to savor in such happiness. This time, I held onto it.

The temperatures were so low, probably below 15 degrees, but I didn’t care. I had limited myself for far too long, trapped by excuses and reasons as to why I couldn’t do this or go anywhere. In that moment, I allowed my mind to be free, my whole body to be free.

Once again, the waves came, and the water ran over my feet. But this time, instead of feeling cold, I felt warmth. I was happy, truly happy.

My adventures were only beginning.

There’s something about the sea. When I went back to the beach in the evening to watch the sunset, I felt so fulfilled, even when I had always known that I was not yet where I wanted to be.

I swung on a swing nearby as I watched the sun go down and the cold waves wash over my name on the shore. And in that, I found the simplest joy of my life—dancing crazily, taking photos, just in case I forgot how contented I was.

If the world had ended that day, I would have met the angels joyfully.

Muchas gracias, Barcelona