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Just a Memory

So I was back in Helsinki in December and I noticed there were a lot of small changes in the city. In a way, I felt really jealous and hurt because I didn’t know of those changes. Then I played around with that thought – I was jealous since Helsinki wasn’t mine anymore. Like it had been a lover and then nothing.

Helsinki is the guy you date in your early twenties. He’s a good kisser but he’s always in a hurry. He’ll make plans with you and always show up late – but with a very good, sincere, excuse.

Helsinki is the woman you meet in a gay bar dancing to Tegan and Sara. She’s your very first … in many ways. First same sex kiss, the first person to teach you the world is more colorful than black and white. And, most of all, she’s the first one to show you we’re all a little bit broken inside, we are all fallible and flawed. Helsinki is the woman in your bed in the dead of the night talking about monsters and hope.

Helsinki is the cobblestone streets around Senaatintori where you’ve sworn you’ll never wear high heels ever again. It’s the drunken homeless man asking money “for a cardigan fund for the sailors drowned in the sea”. It’s the tired smile shared with a stranger 7:30 am on a Monday morning in tram 10.

Helsinki is that one man who’s just a casual thing; friends with benefits, but who you’ll always be a little bit of in love with. Helsinki is the guy you’ll learn to let go.

Helsinki is the day after a rainstorm. It’s a safe harbor for dead umbrellas. Helsinki is an old lover who still knows their way around your skin and lips. It’s a friend, a cup of coffee and it’s a home. But most of all, Helsinki is a memory.

My Helsinki is just a memory.

 Helsinki Cathedral

 

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Scar comparing

That night on your couch.

That night we compared our time faded battle wounds.

That night we took our clothes off arguing over who has the biggest and baddest scars.

That night we laughed when we realized we were half naked.

That night we just had to watch the Guy Ritchie movie.

That night we realized we had a better scar comparing moment than the men in RocknRolla.

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