Thursday, March 26, 2009

I'm Moving To Berlin On Wednesday

And this is supposed to be one of the most powerful times in my life. 
And it really is. It really truly is.

But it's also powerfully overwhelming and heart-wrenching. 

After receiving both jobs for which I interviewed in THE City that has always been my Absolute Dream Spot To Live, I played the DO NOT MAKE ANY SUDDEN MOVEMENTS AND FOR GOD'S SAKE DO NOT PINCH ME BECAUSE, DAMNIT, I LIKE THIS DREAM card for a bit. 

But now that part's over. I'm not dreaming it. 
I'm living it. 
It's happening.

And I'm scared to death.

Oh sure it doesn't help that I'm completely hormonal at this point; the two-year-old found all of my feminine hygiene products, hid them from me and I'm all, "duuuuuude, you can't be serious,"; due to the aforementioned roller coaster of hormones, I've eaten my body weight in chocolate so I feel like a failure after my desperate attempts at being Stairmaster Queen; and I'm home alone feeling lonely all alone by myself.

I really thought I had things under better control than this.
I had worked through my List of Cares and Troubles and felt that everything would sort itself out. 
I was, as of 13:00 Greenwich Mean Time completely sane and coherent.

Well folks, I snapped.

I think it was filling space-saver bags whilst the two-year-old looked on and filling suitcases with the total catastrophe that is my room currently. Packing makes me see red.
Punching myself in the face does to and that is what I would compare packing to.
Hands down.

It didn't help that my phone call to my parents included a conversation with my father that went as follows:
me: (violent sobbing) "And then....and Jan said....and I just don't....and I'm so scared...and it's like this..." (more violent sobbing)
Dad: "Well.....sometimes when we leave places, we miss it," (to my mother), "Are you done yet so you can talk to her?"


Round that all off with a promise to my mother to live on 10 €/week for food while I wait on my work visa (read: make money) and a suggestion for her to sell my old flute for extra cash.
She followed this up with, "Do you not want it?"
Me: "Well can I eat it?"

But really, it was mostly the fact the young master of the household finally grasped what "Berlin" meant in relation to "Liesl."

I was stoic while he cried and begged me to stay with him and asked why I couldn't stay for forever.
I was brave when he kept bringing it up and asking me if I was going to Berlin after I put him to bed and he fell asleep.
I was even rigid when he asked me if he would see me in the morning or if I was going to be in Berlin. 

And then I wasn't brave anymore. 
Cause then I wept.
I drew a warm bath, I sat for an hour, and I. cried. my. eyes. out.
I wept like a fool. A big fool.

The only thing I was able to say to the little one was to tell him that even though I would not live with him for forever, I would most definitely love him for forever.

So he just looked at me and grinned. 

1 comment:

Emma Dot Com said...

Oh my god! You're in Berlin NOW! The center of the German-speaking universe!

A wise, sage-like ex told me that the most difficult breaks we make are often the most rewarding.

He ended up fleeing to Alaska with a chick in hot pants and a tattoo of Buddy Holly, but I have every faith that Berlin will work out most excellent for you. You're going to have the time of your life.

Oh, and PICTURES, so I can try even harder to keep jealousy at bay.