Only 5 days left in Berlin, and I’m taking inventory. Partially because I’ve been incapacitated for the past week, but also because I am once again starting my life over… Sort of. More like returning to the scene of many old crimes, but as a different person.
Living in Berlin has been rough. Moving here was rough, what happened as soon as I got here (miserably failed attempt at a relationship) was rough, finding a place to live was rough, living there was rough, deciding to leave Berlin was rough… And of course, Berliners are rough. The great irony of being immersed in the English comedy scene of a rough German city is not lost on me. And it’s not rough in the “big cities are rough” kind of way. I’ve lived in many bigger and badder cities, and as far as city life goes, Berlin is pretty mild. But there’s something especially defeating about being a stranger in a strange land while trying to cope with the ordinary roughness of life. My kudos to those of you out there doing it.
As someone who moved practically every year of my life until I was 22, I fully, wholeheartedly, unabashedly hate moving. Hate isn’t even close to being an adequate description. But if we want progress, we do what we have to do to move forward, and for me that meant leaving LA for the past 2.5 years and getting something else from the world. It was never about finding the right place, or believing that LA was bad, or that Europe was better. I loved LA, but was incredibly unhappy. Sometimes comfort is a slow death.
So this should be interesting… Moving back after everything I’ve experienced and having the chance to look some old demons in the face. Hopefully when they look back at me, they see a very different person.
