“Memories warm you up from the inside. But they also tear you apart.”
-Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore
I left some time ago, but I still recall your smell of humid air and the rich food flavors that made me instantly hungry every time I would pass by a restaurant door. I do remember how you spread the joy spoiling every one with your live street music and dance shows. Probably you wonder why am I writing to you after all this time that had passed, and the truth is that I miss you. I miss walking on your streets without having a certain destination but rather admiring your architecture, scars, and triumphs. I miss your parks and river side where sometimes I would go to relax, and think, and dream. There are so many other moments that I wish I could experience them again. Recently, I was going through my archive pictures and I stumbled upon some photographs which depicts the day when I had so much fun walking around and capturing not buildings and streets but rather moments that would eventually become dear memories. Looking at these pictures makes me feel happy and sad at the same time. I am happy not only because of our beautiful experiences and unrepeatable emotions, but also because you became a place that I could call home rather than another stopping point. Simultaneously, I feel sad because our time has ended, and the only way I can go back is looking at your photographs.