(photo by L.)
Athens, Santorini, and Crete, GreeceAnd those days, I felt invincible. I wandered the streets of Athens, searching for the restaurant with the best spanakopita or the best yemista. I wore my hair short and black. I smoked Karelia cigarettes and drank €2 bottles of wine, playing cards long into the night with other travellers, people I’d never see again. I was in love with a man whose laugh I can now no longer remember. I spent far too many hours in cafés, writing fervently in my journal of dreams I had and plans I so desperately wanted to work out.
Athens, Santorini, and Crete, GreeceAnd those days, I felt invincible. I wandered the streets of Athens, searching for the restaurant with the best spanakopita or the best yemista. I wore my hair short and black. I smoked Karelia cigarettes and drank €2 bottles of wine, playing cards long into the night with other travellers, people I’d never see again. I was in love with a man whose laugh I can now no longer remember. I spent far too many hours in cafés, writing fervently in my journal of dreams I had and plans I so desperately wanted to work out.
Those dreams never did come true, the plans never did work out, but by then all those dreams and plans had changed. And these days, I couldn’t be more thankful that they did.