I’m back in Madrid for the first time in nearly five years. It seems almost impossible that it’s been that long. I have a nervous energy that’s similar to calling an estranged friend. “I’m sorry, I should have called sooner…” Anything to blurt out to break the ice. A guilty energy. To my surprise I’ve missed the city. It’s not that I didn’t enjoy my time in Madrid, it’s that despite all of the time I spent here, I never felt like I lived here. I was too involved in my studies, in a relationship, in a bubble, to ever really feel a part of something. So it’s surprising when …
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