One Night Stand (Barcelona – Part five)

One Night Stand (Barcelona – Part five)

Have you ever had one of those one night stands that turns into two nights or a whole week-end?

I’m talking about the kind where you both know that nothing is going to come of it but an awkward diner breakfast, an empty condom box and a hangover; so you can let go of your inhibitions and expectations and just have a genuine good time, without wondering what it all means or what it’s going to be.

It’s not the falling hard, deep and passionately in love kind.

It’s not the feeling so sick when it’s time to go that you just can’t bear to leave them kind.

It’s the kind where you’re not entirely devastated when it’s time to say good-bye but you are so happy to have been there kind.

It’s the get those delicious little pangs in your stomach the next day when vivid mini-clips pop into your head kind.

You can’t help but close your eyes and smile at the sun – and everything feels like a comfy little secret all snuggled up inside you.

Have you ever had that kind?

That’s sort of what Barcelona was like.


I’m not just saying that because Paco the waiter invited me to his place for Sangria and Spanish lessons

or because Pedro asked me to let him immortalize my natural beauty with his Canon EOS and again later with acrylics on canvass.

“Wait… your exhibition is today?”
“And you want to paint me right now?”
“Why aren’t you at your exhibition?”
“My boyfriend is in that record shop right there, I’m just going to go ask him if it’s OK, Ok?”


Looking out the window in the morning was like waking up with a stranger but with each day it became a little more familiar.

I was comfortable but never enough to take it for granted. You know what I mean?
You take in every bit of things that you would normally overlook at home.

Watching the palm trees sway in the wind, smelling the salt in the air…

Feeling the moisture of the breeze on your skin and the cobblestone streets under the souls of your feet…

Touching a belly button, scars or stretch marks…

Inspecting toes, counting freckles…

Watching the sun set was like the second evening of a fling.

You welcome what the night has to bring savoring the moments leading up to it because tomorrow morning you’ll say goodbye.


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