Like any other great love story, this one was not meant to happen. The timing was bad, this was supposed to happen in a few years, when I was ready, not now. I wasn’t looking for love. Hell, I wasn’t even looking for lust. It just crept up on me. Slowly at first, I started to feel my emotions being pulled. I was supposed to leave, I had a life back in the states. My family and friends were waiting anxiously for my return. But somehow,leaving in winter, became spring, and then spring became summer and now it’s being pushed back again, because I fell in love.
In love with a city. A city that was never on my top 10, even top 20 places to visit. I thought I would hate it. The hipsters, the grunge, the Germans. But it kept growing on me. Slowly, I felt myself dreading leaving, so I pushed back my return date and stayed another semester. Then I decided to stay for half the summer; however, it was rightly pointed out to me that Berlin is at its best in summer. I accidently found the perfect internship for me this summer and so here I am. Nearly a year into living in a city that I thought was only going to be for four months. A city that I will miss dearly when I leave.
Berlin is so much more than hipsters and modern art (I should know, I dislike both of them.), I am have crazy wild nights that last until morning, I have found some great friends, I have been to too many festivals to count, plus I have learned more about myself in this past year. I’ve had some great adventures in this city and though it may not be time to go, I already know I will miss my time here and hopefully, I might return to this city someday.