The End...

I can’t believe it’s Sunday already. I have to go home tomorrow. While at Creem I feel overwhelmingly anxious and sad. I don’t want to leave but have to and feel rushed again to squeeze in any last minute activity in. I spend more time staring out the window than writing. I know I’m going to be mad at myself when I get home for not keeping my journal entirely up to date.
I wandered to various shops early in the afternoon, trying on the occasional sweater or dress, then headed to the underground café in Gamla Stan one last time.
While there I sipped a latte, alternating between writing and reading. I was able to quiet my mind for a little bit and focus on what I was doing. It was when I left that the anxiety flared up again. I entertain thoughts of eating and push them away.
Later after being at Olov’s for a while I decide to go for a walk. As I’m leaving, he’s walking up the stairs to his place.
“Where you off to?” he asks after hugging me hello.
“Going for a walk.”
“Can I come?”
“Sure.” I smile.
He puts his things down inside and we’re off. The sun has completely gone down and he’s hungry. Surprisingly, I’m not. We stop at a small Middle Eastern place and he tells me about his day at work.
“What do you want to do now, with your last night here in Stockholm?” he asks once he’s done with dinner.
“I’m not sure really. Let’s just keep walking.”
We walk back towards his place but take a detour into a park. After walking up a huge hill we’re overlooking the city with all it’s sparkly lights. The sky is a deep violet color and the moon is orange. I wish I had my camera. We sit on a bench and talk about all sorts of things from past jobs to past relationships and everything in between. I tell him about my plans once I return home. We decide to keep in touch through all that.
“We should probably head back.” he says, standing.
“Ok.”
On the way back we don’t say much. Once inside he’s turned the TV on. I can’t sit still. Maybe I’ll try to go back to the chocolate café one more time. When I tell him this he perks up.
“How do you still have any energy to do anything?”
“I have no idea but it’s my last night here and I want to be out.” I reply. “You’re welcome to come with me.”
“You’re going to write though.” he says.
“Not if you’re with me, but if you’re not coming then yes, I’m going to write.”
“I don’t know. I’m tired.”
I put my scarf and jacket on, then pick up my bag. “Ok.” I’m about to walk to the door when it seems like he’s contemplating joining me.
“Alright I’ll come with you.” he gets up and we both put our shoes on. Neither of us say anything as we walk out the door. I feel my skin heating up once we’re outside and he’s several steps ahead of me.
“You don’t have to come with me.” I blurt out.
“I’m choosing to do so.” he stops to look at me.
“Ok. I’m just saying that you don’t have to.”
“I know and I want to.”
We keep going to the train and to Gamla Stan where when we find the place it’s closing. Dammit.
“I’m getting hungry.” I say, looking around.
“Hmm. I know of a place that stays open until three I think.”
“Deal.”
We take the train back and get off at another stop. The café is fabulous and packed. There is a lot of Swedish exchange going on between Olov and the guy behind the counter then they both stop to look at me. I assume it’s time for my little English speaking self to order. I do so and we walk upstairs to sit. “It’s so beautiful up here.” I think to myself surveying around at all the plush red couches and tables that are scattered around the loft-like place. Huge windows line some of the walls and I wish we had places like this back home.
Olov and I sink into one of the couches. The table suddenly seems very high. We talk and talk. The food comes and it’s awesome. I’m full and content, not wanting to move. I have no idea what time it is but the place is still buzzing with people everywhere. We decide to head back.
Again, I’m in bed, but having a hard time falling asleep. Reality will start again sometime tomorrow. I just need one more day…