5 to go.

The end is almost near. No, not you, Rapture, we all know you're a load of hooey. No, I mean, the end of Our Berlin is nigh. 

I can't say I have any super duper awesome stories to share with you right now, but I felt like waxing a little nostalgic/poetic/philsophic, as 5 weeks from this very day, Jack and I head back to Reality, AKA the United States. Huh.

I remember when we got here--it was cold, rainy, and sheets of ice covered the ground, making our apartment search nearly impossible--well, it sucked. We found our awesome apartment, settled in, and it felt like home. Except I didn't have work, the sun wouldn't shine, and I felt like Berlin was a big hole that was slowly swallowing me alive. I wanted to come home. I didn't know why I was here. Did I come to Berlin on someone else's dream? Of course. I had come here to accompany my partner-in-crime, so that he could take this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and I could share it with him. But I didn't know how to share it--I felt like I was grasping at straws trying to justify my presence here while he was doing, learning, experiencing.

By the end of February (and a lot of crappy weather later), the sun began to poke out from behind the clouds. It was still cold, and the city felt colder, but for whatever reason, I felt inclined to come out of hibernation. Perhaps it was the realization that I needed to make the best of what would amount to a 6-month European vacation...or drive both Jack and myself insane. I planned a trip to Italy to see my good friend, had an AMAZING time, and then had the opportunity to go home for nearly a week. Honestly, going back to Chicago was a turning point, because I realized that I didn't actually live there. Chicago is not my home. I belong in Berlin--with my love and our life there. I looked forward to coming back here, starting German classes, and therefore my continued integration into this wonderful culture that is Berlin.


In hindsight, it's easy to see that in some ways, I was ungrateful. Although I'd been here before, I was unable to foresee what lessons the city would teach me. This is a common thread in my life: I want to know what I'm going to receive/experience/how I'm going to feel about X, Y, Z, just so I can be prepared. Often times, the emotional preparation dissuades me from having a natural reaction to whatever it is I'm receiving/experiencing/in actuality, feeling. 

Berlin caught me off guard. Berlin forced me to improvise. Berlin made me realize that I needed to make it my own, or face the inevitable consequence of being swallowed up. And now that I've been reminded of this wonderful freedom, I don't want to let it go. Perhaps that's why I've been a little bit weary in my outlook about coming back to Chicago; Berlin has provided the proof that I can be adaptable, teachable, open to lots of changes in a short period of time, and as a result, I feel like I could conquer the world. I don't want to go back to what I know--I want to move onto what I don't, and see what wonderful treasures there are to be found elsewhere.

But, Reality is going to kick back in. In 5 weeks from today, we're outta here. This space in time will have vanished into history, and once again I'll be confronted with What Is Happening Next. I suppose though, if I've learned anything at all, that I'll be fine, Jack and I will be fine, because we know how to improvise--we've learning how to make what we've got into what we want, and I can only imagine that we'll get better and better at it.