Plaza Vicente Lopez

I’m starting to feel sad. It’s like it hit me that all of this will be gone soon. I decided I wanted to go back to Recoleta, so I’m back at Plaza Vicente Lopez where it all began. It’s colder now than it was back in November, with my swollen ant-bite feet and sweat clinging to my green and white Banana Republic blouse. I am glad to not be working that job – I’ve accomplished so much more in my life without it. The girls and I ate a late lunch at this bistro called Florencio in a tiny neighborhood of Recoleta called La Isla.


Mom would’ve loved it for its blue and white plates piled high with cakes and pastries and sandwiches. Only enough room inside to seat ten. And an awesome nose hit of fresh baked breads when you walk inside. We lingered over coffee and dessert, then headed over to Recoleta Cemetery, map in hand. I had missed some of the highlights, and I wanted to see them all before I left. Then Annemarie had to head back home and Jenny had to study.


But rather than sit in my room alone I’m here to reflect. I feel the tears start to well up. But there’s nothing left for me to do here. And it will be nice to have warm weather after nine months of falls and winter. I know it will all be okay, but I don’t want my life to snap into place like Ben’s in Tulsa. Everyone says “Oh it will,” but what if I don’t want it to? I’m not trying to be difficult, but I’ve let this place change me and I don’t want to go back.