Sunday, July 13, 2014

This isn't your Munich City Guide and I'm sorry.


I've received many emails asking me about Munich recommendations. With each one I've read I've been simultaneously flattered, happy, and desperately sad. The kind of anxiety that I encounter when thinking about compiling my thoughts into one guide is on par with trying to decide what you should wear when you know you'll going to see an ex.

This may sound incredibly insane. It may be. It probably is. But it's how I feel.

Pictured above is my gorgeous, perfect (in my eyes) room, in my sweet apartment in downtown Munich. It was airy and lovely and even though it was old, and didn't have air-conditioning, and was beyond noisy at night because of the traffic below---I loved that tiny apartment more than words could describe.

It was home.

And I felt like my dreams were coming to fruition and I never felt as happy and as excited as I did those big city days.

But, for reasons unforeseen, reasons having nothing to do with me, it all ended. I had three months to savor this life, if even for such a short amount of time. I never wanted it to end.

I remember the day I had to say goodbye and I remember what I wore and what I felt and what was said and what wasn't said and it pains me. I said goodbye to too many dear friends and had one piece of luggage too many and I sobbed the entire cab ride to the airport. I remember my cab driver asking if he could do anything at all to help. And I remember saying: I wish there was. I wish there was. 

But there wasn't anything anyone could do really. I needed work. I needed to extend my Visa. All logistical nonsense that always is the problem for dreamers like me.

Sometimes I think it may have been better had I never gone back at all. Because sometimes getting a sample of your dream, knowing that it can and does come true, well there's no coming back from that.

So what I'm saying is this: I'm sorry.

I'm sorry I don't have the closure yet to be able to write about my favorite Munich haunts and where I loved to picnic on Friday nights in the park and why I'll never forget that summer and the reasons why. Does this make me sound completely immature? Naive?

Well then, so be it.

I'm sorry. 
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5 comments:

  1. This doesn't sound insane/immature/naive to me at all. It just sounds to me that you're a deep soul and you really love this city, these people—the culture, the tastes, scents, and sights. It makes sense that it hurts. It was essentially ripped from you. (Or rather, you ripped from it— plucked & dropped back over the Atlantic.) Looking forward to the blog post where you tell us, "I knew I'd be back."

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    1. I don't think you understand how much your response helped. I am so lucky to have such supportive, encouraging readers like you. I keep rereading this comment and it seriously has helped beyond words. Thank you thank you. xx

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  2. Don't feel like you need to apologize; we understand! xoxo

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    1. Oh you're so sweet to understand. Your support doesn't go unnoticed. It has helped me in ways I'll never be able to clearly explain! xx

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  3. No apologies ever needed.

    Awww, although an old post - I feel sad. Sad for you - Sad for me - this reminded of the day I left my little village next to Munich int. Airport - how terrified I was! Four children in tow, one suitcase each. Future unclear, Future so daunting. Its a week to go to the day 10 years ago and I've buried so much of it so deeply - I feel I've dealt with some of it, I'm a survivor - the kinda girl who 'picks herself up, dusts herself off and gets on with doing what needs to be done; but the spin off is that there are years of ache, anger, frustration and disappointment I simply keep on burying deeper and deeper.

    Maybe its time to deal with it all - but I'm afraid it may destroy me. Just too much from before that I know will come up.

    Hope your day is wonderful
    Wendy

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