Obrigada

It's kind of weird to get used to the reality, especially after such a wonderful time. Still in Lisbon, when I let myself think for a moment about my journey back home, I was afraid of the simplest things: the streets, the places and the people that I ALREADY KNOW. I was afraid of the routine and of the looming winter. When I saw the advertisements at the airport in Warsaw that weren't in Portuguese, I almost started to cry, however ridiculous it may seem. Even now I catch myself being surprised at hearing Polish language on the street.

The longest holidays in my life so far are over. There are no words to thank all the people that I met, danced with, laughed with, sang with, had a walk with, cried with, drank wine with, talked with and was silent with. You know who you are and you know that I thank you for every single minute I spent with you. These two months have been the best in my life so far, without a shadow of a doubt.

In the middle of the first month, though, I already knew that I came to Lisbon by myself because of something. I had been alone for a long time, a relatively long time, and I had always thought I was okay with it, until I came to Portugal. Suddenly, even though I was in a place I had been dreaming of and desired to go to, I felt a great fear. After some time I discovered the core of my problem - I couldn't be happy when alone.

So I was learning to stroll. It may seem funny but I had never been able to stroll, just like that, walking around without any destination. I was learning to be alone and happy. I was learning to find a reason to smile even when my only interlocutor for the whole day was a tired woman in Pingo Doce asking me whether I want a bag for 25 cents or not. I was learning to be brave. ("Be brave, be very brave..."). The mere fact that I made this decision, out of the blue, entered a plane and went to Lisbon, is a huge proof of my courage. Perhaps for some people it may seem funny, as there are so many who climb Mount Everest, set off to the South American jungle or a desert in Australia, whilst I just entered the plane and from one capital flew to the other. Simplesmente. But one year ago I wouldn't have even thought about moving my butt from the safe and warm flat and go to the other side of Europe, all by myself, with a red suitcase, a computer and Euro in the wallet. When I realise this now I start to feel some sort of anxiety, anxiety that doesn't exist and have never existed, anxiety that, in a way, should have existed, as every normal person feels it. But I get rid of it quickly. Even if I had to go through a small personal hell, even if somebody has sometimes seen me in the metro crying, even if once or twice I sat in a dark staircase looking at the wall for a couple of minutes, even if there was a time when I wanted to run away from there, to run away from something that was supposed to be my realised dream, I still will say it was worth it. I will always say that. Because I cannot describe all the things I gained, partly thanks to this all, and it's absolutely impossible to express my gratitude for all that happened to me.

I learnt to be alone in Lisbon and feel fine with it, even happy with it! I really did. I didn't need anyone beside me, finally! And that's exactly when somebody appeared and the words of the dearest person in my life, my brother, had come to my mind: "Only when you learn to be alone, and you don't need anyone else, you'll find a man."

So, I had an impression that I was in Portugal in order to, among other things, learn something. To set myself free, to learn to be by myself, to learn to do things I wanted to do, to be myself, to be happy. To gain, this time, a complete, authentic, unpretended courage and create my life as I truly want it. Did I really have to fly three thousand two hundred and five kilometres to do this? Yes.