You Can See My Heart Beating: Last Day in Greece

the insanity of my last full day in Greece. I am approaching the 24 hour mark. I woke up early to stroll through Plaka. I bought myself some presents and some for my loves. I brought my camera and took pictures of all the things i love. The 209, the 4. the road the goes in the middle of the national gardens. the winding streets of Plaka and the cute tourist shops with "Cats of Greece" purses, calenders, shot glasses, hats, shirts, mugs. I swear they sell everything cat related in those shops except real cats. I found myself speaking as much Greek as I could, just to take it all in as much as possible. I spoke more then I normally would in Plaka (its ultra touristy and everyone speaks english there) so of course found myself in the middle of conversations pretending I was a native speaker until some weird question arose like what size? and I was left with just...uh..signoome?
It felt so nice. I found myself telling all the sales people that I was leaving tomorrow. It was all I could think about. How short my time is. How this is my last chance. My last trip to Plaka. It is crazy how well I know the streets of Athens. This big city. This ancient city. It really isnt that big at all. It is filled with small streets and narrow sidewalks. Even Ermou. I know every store, every piece of graffiti on the walls. I can tell you where all the Emma graffiti is around the city. Thissio, Monastraki, Psiri. What was once a maze, is now a clear map in my head. I walk those streets with confidence.

I noticed something after about 2 months of being here that I have never written about. But its something I think about often. Everywhere I've ever lived. The streets I've walked, the roads I've crossed. My eyes have always had a fixation on my feet. I have known amazing people who walk differently. They walk with a bounce in their step. With their chins up. They look straight. And for some reason, I, have always looked down. I never was confident enough. I never wanted to stare at the world. I wanted to look down at the pavement and make sure I didnt trip or fall. I dont know. I just always noticed that some people looked up, but I looked down. I once wrote in a poem,
"gray fleece and eyes set ahead,
yet their glance hits the pavement more
for these skies don't hold the answer."
But Greece has changed me.

For what seems like the first time. I walk with my head up. I forget my feet. I trust my legs to steady any possible fall. And my eyes watch everything. And I smile.