Today is October 1st, and that is significant for two reasons:
1) Mario’s been at his job—the job that brought us to Madrid—for one year now. Yipee, hooray, and all that stuff.
2) Four years ago, I started dating him.
Our first date, our first picture!
Yeah, I know we’re married and all, and I guess the rules of being married say you can’t celebrate dating anniversaries or something, but I DON’T CARE I’M GONNA SAY MY THING.
Because I miss Salamanca and its autumn: el fresquito, the return of the students making the streets seem alive at night, the Tormes River covered by leaves, the zip of the wind as I ran around the track at Salas Bajas, the smell of the streets after an evening downpour … a simpler time, a simpler place.
I suppose I will always love Salamanca, even if I disliked Mario’s rickety apartment with sparse décor and appliances that always seemed to be breaking. I won’t miss the crotchety old lady who lived below us and constantly had to come up to tell us how our shower leaked on her floor. I won’t miss living on the fifth floor without an elevator. But I will miss the times we spent there. The first time I visited, Mario made me a meal—what a way to win a girl’s heart. I will remember the wine we drank there sitting around his table, the numerous times we watched The Penguins of Madagascar, how I sat on his tiny little balcony to read while he studied for hours on end, sitting on his couch eating our favorite brand of German spiced cookies from Lidl that you can only get during the Christmas season, putting laundry out to dry (and the way it smelled), always running down to the Carrefour below his apartment … so many things, so many memories.
Happy anniversary, my love. I’ll never forget October 1st, 2009, in Salamanca.