As I walked over the bridge that units the ilands Södermalm and Kungsholmen, the so called Västerbron where the view is a postcard of Stockholm, I got an idea. I stopped and looked, this is my hometown I sighed. That's when I realised that Stockholm and I have no lovestory, we are like the middleaged couple longing for a divorce, and I am already planing of having an affair with an other city. Actually I am already cheating on Stockholm with Paris. Maybe I have become to blind, to many years with the same partner. I guess I am trying to compare Stockholm with my lover, Paris, and I feel dissapointed. Yes, we do have memories and stories yet there is no passion left. I long for one night in Paris, Rio or New York. Strangers and lovers, no commitment, no memories.
Although I will never be able to erase the memories of
pink shimmering palettes in the june sky, long walks in the old town, the view of Skinnarviksberget, taste of swedish strawberries, the first day of snow and the big window in my apartment with evening sun or the fact that I have spent my life here. Maybe I should take Stockholm for what it is, and not try to compare it. Stockholm, is my past, my highschool lover and foremost, my hometown, now and forever.
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