I seemed to get attached to things very easily. And what I mean by things I mean inanimate objects. Like rooms. Hostel and hotel rooms. I’ll be sitting on the bed, either reading a book or writing in my journal, and I’ll have this sudden realization that I’ll never be in this room, on this bed, ever again. My heart literally drops of the mere thought of it. And it’s sad. Almost on the verge of a pathetic sadness.
And then there are these objects that have a significant value to it. Not monetary but emotional value. For instance, I bought this ring while I was studying abroad in Italy 5 years ago. Monetary value: 2 euros. Emotional value: priceless. With this ring, it represented the most significant change of my life. (And it also represented a pretend engagement of two of my friends). And then I lost it. I was on a train and when I reached my destination, I felt emptiness on my index finger. I even made people look around for this ring. They probably thought it was a diamond platinum ring worth thousands but in the end, it was just a 2 euro ring.
But these hostel and hotel rooms really don’t have an emotional tie to it yet here I am attached to this space. This empty space. I went to the Edward Hopper exhibition at the Art Institute Of Chicago and I thought the most profound painting displayed was his depiction of an empty room. He did not sit in an empty room and copied what he saw onto canvas but created this piece from memory, from years and years of experience.
So what did I gain from Chicago? An uber fantastic time! And now that I’ve returned to my busy routine, my heart is now left in an empty room waiting for what is yet to come.