I’ve logged photographs and transcribed notes. We ate lunch. Shared a liter of sangría, because it tastes almost like glögg and it’s first advent today. First Sunday of Christmas.
I Skyped with Jessica for almost an hour. She’s trying to settle in on Iceland.
After, we talked long about relationships, Elli and I.
I’m listening to The Cardigans, updating the blog, and I’m having one of those feelings. The kind of out-of-myself-musings of that it’s a weird thing, how we connect to people. Whom we end up loving. Not always the most deserving. Sometimes against our better judgement, yes, even our own will.
(And I’m not talking about the romantic kind. That is a way too narrow definition of love.)
How strong it is. Overwhelming. Breathtaking.
It’s time for me to go home. To the people that I love.
Not that they are all in Stockholm. I’ve ended up loving a flighty bunch. Yet another example of the irrationality of the whole concept.
Katja Malmborg 