Daimon. Δαίμον.

Daimon.
Δαίμον

Daimon is the Greek derivative for the term demon. In this sense the term “demon” means “replete with knowledge.” Daimons were considered to be guardian spirits, giving guidance and protection to the ones they watched over. (Urban DIctionary)

Thursday mornings start too early. It doesn’t matter if you have Math class, or you might fall asleep in Politics. Thursday mornings simply start too early.

Today is one of those mornings. Those that started too early to function, those that make your eyes ache and your head explode, and that’s why sometimes you have to write down stuff, to organize your thoughts (although I should probably listen to Bob).

 

With time, so cliché, it turns that out you understand a few things. A few days ago, I realized I had daimons. Not demons, daimons. Those who give guidance and protection.

Well, I had daimons. They left. I’m not blaming them, can you blame anyone for moving on with their lives?

No, I’m happy they left. This is a goodbye letter, or rather just my very bad way to tell some girls how grateful I am for having met them.

 

This is for my δαίμονες.

For the girl that I will miss coming back to the room and not seeing dancing to the notes of Selena Gomez, that very same girl who would invite me on her bed and let everything out, or just listen to me. That’s the  δαίμον that came up to me one day and told me: “I like you, do you wanna be roommates?” It sounds a bit weird and crazy, but it hides so much beauty. It’s the beauty of getting so used to each other than when one of the two leaves, you don’t cry because it does not feel real. It feels like she’s going home for a few weeks and she’ll be back sooner or later, complaining about how she missed the room and the vibes, yet almost cries about the food in the dining hall.

For the beautiful human being whose voice and singing I will miss coming back to in the room, and not seeing her lying in Miriam’s bed and enjoying the pillows. That very same girl who, damn, has never moved her mat to the room, although she should have. That’s the δαίμον that would sing me Disney songs in Italian, because in two different countries, not knowing of the existence of each other, we shared very similar dreams, watching Mulan. And once again, there is beauty in that. There is the beauty of two girls living away from home and taking care of each other, hugging each other during exam period or begging each other to go to sleep, or to eat. I didn’t cry for this δαίμον when her taxi turned left and disappeared behind the circus because it didn’t feel like she was leaving as well.

I cried for my third δαίμον, probably because I finally came to the conclusion that they were all leaving me. That’s the δαίμον that would text me at 1 am before mocks and ask: “Hey boo, wanna chill?” And it doesn’t matter how many Arabic drills you have to finish, or the fact that Wenger gave you a Practice Paper for the day after, you will say yes. You will go and walk to the stables and chill with coffee, talking about life, school or simply adventures. I’m sort of getting tired of repeating it, yet it is amazingly beautiful. It is beautiful how much relief few good words can bring to a soul and how a world, a new world, can be unveiled by a question, or a ‘Let’s do it’.

This was a personal letter, I have to admit it, but in the end, it all comes down to the fact that wherever life spreads your δαίμονες, what you learned, what you enjoyed and what you lived; it all stays with you. And damn, you will meet them again, I swear, you don’t get rid of them that easily.

 

God, this was so cheesy.

Written by: Caterina Barbi
Edited by: Shy Zvouloun

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