Beijing: It’s complicated

I started a relationship with Beijing over a year ago. I was fully in love, head over heels, completely infatuated with the thrill of the first time. A thrill I find myself addicted to… the excitement of the first time anywhere… it’s an incomparable feeling.

After exploring its corners, walking through its alleyways, admiring its beauty, meeting its people, and everything else that happens in a relationship, I was hooked.

We had long talks about politics, society and culture. Some of its ideas I struggle to understand but still keep an open mind about. It showed me some of its past, a past of glory and scars, one that still permeates the present and influences its actions.

We also shared big silences. Beautiful moments of awe. But la vie en rose illusion is only destined to fade.

After some time of which I can’t be precise some things came afloat. A culture clash. An uncomfortable feeling of disconnection. A punch awakening. The ugly side.

Maybe it’s the air and the “mask” I have to wear to disguise the fact that there’s something wrong. Or could it be the subway rides, a constant reminder of a rough unmerciful capitalism? Is it the way you look at me? Are they just first-time or judgmental stares?

Is it that I can’t get past the flaws, just to see this city as it really is, and appreciate it even so? Is it that I am addicted to that initial first time thrill, and I get bored too quickly, maybe that’s why I seek to travel, and change things around me quite often. Maybe life is teaching me how to develop long meaningful and deep relationships. Long term bonds that come in black, white and gray spaces in between.

Oh well. While I walk from denial to acceptance I admit even though it’s complicated I still haven’t given up on you.