After many many years with problems in my city (both with my family and with my friends) I decided to take the plunge: I travel to London with the intension of leaving behind all that was hurting me so much.
I got to London with nothing, a thousand euros in the pocket and the desire to eat the world”: THAT WAS THE MOMENT TO START MY LIFE
With only 2 weeks there I had spent the half of the Money and finding a job didn’t seem so easy… I spent those 2 weeks searching, day and night, and only did job trials and trials, of which I was never called back…
Finally, another week of trials and waiting was worth it: I got a job in the 3º week…
That notice was something worse than a death for my own (my family), ‘cause it meant that I really was leaving for a long time.
For you to make an idea, back in my house I always had been the mediator in the conflicts (familiar, between parents, brothers, division of responsibilities, economical ones). I could say (without wanting to boast) that I was the one that kept the family united, without the discord bomb exploting. I can say that it flatters me, but it also marked my youth, and even conditioned it with what my family did or thought: I never had the 100% freedom to do “what I want, but what I had to”.
On the other side, don’t you think that I was my parents’ favourite, no. I’d been “the correct son” that since very young had taken up the pieces, and I been away, sentimentally talking, of them. No kisses, nor hugs, nor caress… it seems that been “so strong” I “don’t need it”.
When the notice arrived home, it was a real impact, EACH ONE HAD TO DEAL WITH THEIR THINGS. I wasn’t there anymore to save anyone. The solving problems was over.
2 months later, my father, the same that I’d lived with in the same house and hadn’t congratulated me for my birthday since I was 8 (I’m 24 now); called me to say that he had bought a ticket to London. He come to see me in a few days.
Amazingly he showed me on his way that he miss me, that he loves me and that for me he was able to catch a plane and go to London without knowing a word of English.
This would be the chance to get in touch with my father again, have time to us and show that we love each other.
And so… my father got to London, we enjoyed a week together travelling in our whole lost history while walking in London beautiful streets…
Curious the way to get to you, the Readers… because this same history that I tell you, that walks with my father, take me to the London Bridge, and to find this curios suitcase hanging in the railing…
