time flies when you’re having fun

I’m convinced Siena is the most magical place on Earth. Where else can you be walking home from dinner and get caught in a parade of men twirling flags and children singing their neighborhood’s battle song? I can somewhat navigate the streets on my own now. I recognize every face of the hotel staff. I’ve found the best spot for spritzes.

I keep getting weird flashes of deja vu. Time warps and I’m transported back to the first time I walked into my hotel room and thought wow, this is small. Now it’s the place I’ve lovingly deemed “the cloister,” dedicated to the crucifix that hangs across my bed and the convent right out our window (and the nuns who wear Birkenstocks and say “buongiorno” to me when they walk the halls). I remember my first impressions of people, and how some turned out to ring true while I got others so wrong. Every “last” is a reminder of a “first.” Days of classes, nights in the piazza, visits to the park. I keep asking myself, where did all that time go? How did the days blur together like this and why do I feel like I’m missing things before they’re even gone? I remember watching the moon go from a sliver to full in what felt like one night, but I know was a procession of nights, because that’s how time works. Nothing happens all at once. Instead, living is a culmination of things, like daylight and bruschetta, walks to the fortress and sharing clothes, skateboards and skimboards, sticking our heads out of trains and letting rain wash away what no longer serves us.

What I saw when I opened the shutters one morning

If you look close enough, you can see the jockey falling off the horse. We woke up at 4 am to watch this.

Waiting in line at the hostel in Florence

Right before I got stung by a jellyfish in the Mediterranean

Sticking my head out the train window after a long day of traveling

I’m not ready to say goodbye to these people and this place and this version of me. I’m keeping this chapter titled “The Summer I Spent In Italy” in my heart for a long, long time. I’m going to miss it all so much.

But I miss everything everyday. I have practice with this; missing is a part of who I am. This time will be no different. Saying goodbye to Siena will just give me more practice. Maybe missing something so deeply is a reminder that I’m alive. Maybe it’s teaching me to love more. People and places and feelings will inevitably come and go from my life. Loving them while they’re here is the best thing—the only thing—I can do.

Gotta go pre-game the Palio,

Maya

time flies when you’re having fun

smiling with tears in my eyes

Siena, with love