Lockdown love letter

Tara Keeny
3 min readFeb 1, 2021

22 May, 2020

Dear Madrid,

I’ve written you love letters before, but this time is different. These days as I slink around your empty streets, it feels like you’re all mine. Everyone’s gone. So this is what it’s like to have your undivided attention.

You’re looking flawless. In that sense I don’t mind that it’s just us. Finally, nothing and no one is blocking me from taking you in. I notice all these curves and quirks to you. Beauty marks I never get to see when everyone else is around.

I used to feel like my love for you was unrequited. The mountains I had to move just to be allowed to live here and love you. I’ve always liked the chase, I guess, and you put up a damn good one.

Malasaña neighborhood

But now that it’s just you and me, I see this different side of you. This flawlessness, it doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel like the Madrid I fell in love with.

I was walking through Sol the other day, enjoying this perfect May weather. But something felt off. What was this clean, pristine, empty scene that was so serene it made me want to scream!? It’s like I barely even recognize you.

Please! Don’t take that the wrong way. It’s not your fault. I just can’t have you all to myself like this. It’s too big a job.

What I’m trying to say is, I miss the way it used to be. When I was fighting for your attention with 6.6 million other people. When you would hardly bat an eyelash at me.

I miss sharing you with throngs of snail-placed ladies taking up the entire street. I miss trying (and failing) to have conversations over the reggaetone blasting through the bar (did I really just say that??). I miss bumping shoulders on the metro and kissing complete strangers hello. I miss paying 15 euro for a copa at Cafe Berlin. And needing to scream to get the bartender’s attention (I am such a guiri). I miss dancing the night away. And the way the creatures of the night spill into the street at 6 am in a cloud of smoke and laughter.

I miss sharing you with everyone else. I’m lonely. Can we go back to the way it was — before I asked you to be exclusive? Please?

Lavapies neighborhood

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Tara Keeny

NYC-born, Madrid-based. Storyteller, yogi and lover of most things Spanish.