Alaska

Alaska was once a restaurant in Altassa, which was full of travelers and tourists, which Bernardo Atxaga mentioned in one of his books. In the cold land where America meets Siberia at its extreme north, the owner made enough money to set up the restaurant and then to build a large and elegant hotel in Etzegarat, with a swimming pool, which is now abandoned. It has often been written about disaffection and abandonment, but less about the invisible threads that connect us to places, that we don't know how to mourn places. In fact, we leave our lives, our pieces, with people we will never see again, in places we will never be again. And we all have an Alaska in us. We all have some place linked to our memories, which we remember in whole or in part. We loved someone who we don't know where he is today. We leave our lives, our pieces, to people we will never see again. That's why living is, in short, losing those who love us and finding them again. In fact, we feel the strongest when we are loved, more than when we are strong. But the rain comes unexpectedly, like the interesting people in life. And nothing can be done to stop the rain. Likewise, there is nothing you can do to stop someone who has decided to abandon you.