Barcelona

You've seen the new Woody Allen movie?
You should. It's a good one. The best one for the last 6 years.

I always think Spain is a much more romantic place than France. Because I prefer Spanish than French. Not that I know how to speak either one. Just because one sounds passionate and the other one tiresome.
It's like Johansson's character's reason for learning Chinese rather than Spanish.

Colors in Spain are so powerful, enriching characteristics of people there. They are closer to their own cores and farther from the supposed-to-be.
At least that's what was depicted in the movie.

I've never been to Barcelona. I've never been to Europe, actually.
What a waste, friends always say to me, that I should've gone there when I was dating the French guy.
No, I wouldn't even if he asked me to go with him. I was afraid. Certain places hold special places in my heart. People who go to those places with me will somehow become special.
Manhattan is special. I had dreamed about holding hands, walking on streets, dancing, laughing, kissing with a special person there. That special person danced tango with me in MoMA before he learned how to tango and took a walk with me in the Park through the Gates. Certain places in my favorite city, since then, became memory holders.
Dating later became seeing. Happy moments were outnumbered by hurtful exchanges. Memory holders just remind me of how old my soul has become.
So I am glad that I didn't go to Europe with him.

Vicky and Cristina got back on their lives again after the summer in Barcelona.
What an ironic shame? They should've changed their lives after the trip?
Woody Allen knows well that people don't change after a summer, even if it's a once-in-a-life-time summer. Technically, each summer is once in a life time, but you know what I mean.
People don't change their self-idealized track of life easily. They may understand themselves better. They may justify their unexpected behavior better. They may cross off an item of the to-do list or jot down an item on the what-wild/crazy/cool-things-I've-done list. They just don't push away their original life style and jump into another one in a snap.

I used to believe in "change in a snap". Long time ago, I saw French Kiss and loved Meg Ryan. I wished I would be her character: someone random, totally out of her expectation, lit up her life, made her stay, and built a shared life together.
On a relatively stable secured track of life, I am still holding a tiny hope that someone strong enough can influence my decision: stay or leave as long as we are together.

The difference between Vicky and Cristina was:
V thought she knew what she wanted. C knew what she didn't want. At the end, V was confused, and C was still wondering how to avoid what she didn't want.
I am more like V. The relationship ended a year ago is my long summer in Barcelona. Will never forget about it. But no way to get back there in a fresh mentality. Even though it was so colorful and enriching, I'd rather go to the real Barcelona with no one special.