the complexity of saying goodbye to a city

how objects, people and places have shaped my existence in a town no longer mine

As I lay in bed, unable to fall asleep, I dream of a house filled with objects I now don’t own anymore.

A concrete-grey clay vase I made during lockdown, that was not finished enough to hold fresh flowers but dead ones always looked better in it. The ceramic bowls decorated with green leaves you got me for one of my birthdays, from which we ate sushi rice and grilled salmon every week. The white mug I bought when I moved to London, the first object that was truly mine even when I lived in shared houses, nine years worth of teas turned its inside yellowish but somehow that brought me more comfort. My bedside table, terracotta-coloured bedsheets, the wooden magazine holder I found on the streets with F, my plants.

All the stories and memories I could not take with me, what will be of them? Did they even happen if nothing I own reminds me of them?

The birthday cards and the Polaroid photos I kept in the white box. The rocks I picked up in places and can no longer carry in my pockets. The letters you wrote me on scrap pieces of paper. The books that at times were all I could find joy in.

Jean-Luc Godard, Le Studio d’Orphée, Fondazione Prada Milano | The Jardín de Cactus, Lanzarote

I shed once again like I have many times since birth.

I had about three different last day in London, but this time, nothing I own is here. Nothing of mine inhabits a place in this city. I cannot help but tear up when I realize this is no longer my home. A tourist is all I will be to this town from now on, with a backpack on my shoulders, in a bed that is not mine. My soul will only reside through the memories of those with whom I was blessed to share moments, and when they will also forget, my time here will be over.

It is them who on this last day here brought tears to my eyes. It is A and R and their beautiful new home, all they have fought for finally repaid in a kitchen worth of A’s recipes and a table big enough for R’s game nights. E, who apparently reads these pieces (hiii) and told me to not write picturing him reading them. You already know all you meant and mean to me, so no need to tell the world. To O, who I am so proud of, you lived a thousand lives and finally found the one that seems to bring you joy. I will never grow tired of hearing your next new idea. A, who is a brother, a mother and a friend, who was sat by my side on that plane exactly nine years ago.

So much I had to give up because I was only allowed three luggages on the flight that forever tore me apart from this land. So many people I had to leave behind because there just wasn’t enough space.

Colechurch House, London | Space House, London

As the car drove me to the airport, I stared out of the window. My eyes could hardly stay open from the lack of sleep, but I knew this would be my last glimpse at this city as my city and I wanted to take in as much as I could.

The majestic towers of the Barbican that watched over me all this time, I got to say one last farewell to this oasis. The bench by the river where I used to sit on cool evenings and journal about heartbreaks, stood alone staring at Westminster. The galleries, the parks, the bubble tea place, the house I lived in with A and the one with E, the concrete and the many buildings people consider ugly but I found so beautiful.

I had never pictured a life not here until I realised I could no longer picture a life here.

The current has led me for a few years, and I let it, at last, I take responsibility for my own life, pack up my whole existence and say goodbye to those dear to me. I might not be walking and knowing where I am going for a while, there might not be favourite spots or go-to places yet, but what I had to leave behind will make space for new things to come.

Bye London, you have been my first love.

Thanks for reading this short recap of my years in London. I am still quite emotional about the whole matter and found it hard to dig deeper, but I felt that this moment still deserved to have something written about it.

Hope you enjoyed it!

See you next week,

Giorgia xx