Was there anything different that day? Something special that made me be aware of the turning point I would experience in my life? I just checked my online tracks. And my memory, of course. There was nothing. That day was like any other ordinary day. But it wasn’t, in the end.

I am always very fixated with anniversaries. “It’s been a year of X and four years since Y.” A year, or a handful of them, seem to be the appropriated distance to look back and reflect on what is or has been.

This whole love story with a Norwegian girl, how many Chileans can say that? How many people from my origin, with my background, could look back on their lives and recall something in these lines? Just me? Maybe.

I am still unable to foresee the next step, the next story, the next thing I will be reflecting on in one or two years from now. I am also far -or so it feels- from unrevealing the mystery of my own existence.

Three years ago, a random conversation with a random stranger in random circumstances in a random place at a random time, set the foundation for a life too random to be random. A life that was already random enough.

A few weeks ago, talking with another person on a similar quest as mine, I realized that most of my life I have been trying to find a purpose for my randomness. An explanation. An answer to a question like “Why the fuck am I so fucking weird?” or “Why the fuck do these fucking weird things happen to me?” Questions that echo in a universe who doesn’t answer back.

Being normal -or trying to- is a never ending process for me. Maybe because I self-sabotage the whole thing. Maybe because I refuse to be fucking normal in the first place. So another May 28th, 2013 is bound to happen. Another L. Another random encounter. Another turning point. And, yes, another matter to think about for anniversaries to come.