A Month or 30 Days?

A month has passed since I moved into my apartment. It feels way longer than a month. Let's settle with 30 days. Yes, 30 days feel more rational than a month.

In the past 30 days, I have been through more than what I go through in a year on a normal rate. A lot of things has changed in my life since I got here. some people started meaning more to me than before, a lot of people went from friends to strangers. I've gained some and lost some, and both make me happy.

I'm not acting strong, nor am I lying to myself when I say I've never felt as good as I have felt in the past month. I've woken up every day with serious joy. I've had only a few bad moments, but not once a bad day. I have been making the most of this experience, using it up to the last minute.

I chose to come here alone, I wanted to get to know myself, and it feels like this mission is going to be a success.

Dreams Coming True

Like a dream. That's how it feels like to cross off the item on top of your bucket list. You feel like your feet are floating off the ground, and your head gets dizzy, your sight gets blurry and you stare waiting for that moment you'll suddenly feel like you're falling to wake up. But you never do, you don't fall. It happens, and it ends, and you go back home to your normal life.

The next day you open your eyes and you see the ceiling of your bedroom, you are not there anymore, you are here now. And you really don’t know whether to smile because it happened, or cry because it’s over.

While it happened though.. I was in my seat waiting for the match, knowing it will get delayed because it was raining heavily. But I sat there anyway, under the rain, hovering my sight across the court back and forth. Andrew Barron Murray is going to walk this court right now, I thought. He is going to be a couple of meters away from me. I let that sink in as I thought of all the nights I spent awake, the exams I didn’t study, the outings I didn’t attend to watch his matches. All the sunrises I watched reflect on the screen as I screamed in silence not to wake my parents up. All the prayers I made for him to win a championship. All the hours I spent reading articles about him, following his news. Remembering the happiness that seeing him winning brings to my heart, how I stayed pumped for a whole week after his first grand slam. How I wake up every single day to that photo of him on my side table and smile. How I defended him with all I had when someone spoke badly of him like he was a dear friend. How when I was feeling low, all it took was a match to motivate me. How seeing him fight for the points taught me how to never give up. And I’m an adult now, I know that the only thing that motivates the mind is itself, but growing up, it felt like he was my biggest motivation. This big part of my life that I only saw on a screen was going to stand in front of me, and not even know of any of the things going in my head.

And after 3 hours of rain delay he did, he stood in front of me. They called his name and he walked out, the court was too silent I could hear him talk and breath. And I just.. I didn’t understand. I can easily say I still don’t. This all feels like one vivid dream. One that makes me very happy. One that would never ever in a hundred years fail to make me smile.

Visiting the Allianz Arena felt nearly the same. The feeling of happiness dancing through your veins as your lungs excitedly struggle for air as you look around, not understanding.

And it’s a week later now and I’m not sure I’ll ever get the facts straight in my head.

Munich. The most tiring yet beautiful weekend of my life. I got so tired that I slept for an entire day when I came back. I really think I slept 40 hours of the 48 hours post my trip. I left at 5 in the morning, got to my hotel at about 12 noon. I left the hotel at 7 in the evening, missed my train and reached back home at 7 in the morning. I can say it was quite the experience, and I am so relieved that I have used up every last bit of time I had. I really didn’t waste a minute. I wore my clothes and I got on that Uban, I didn’t know where it headed, I didn’t know where I went down, I was in a city I have never seen before, without internet connection and without anyone there with me. And I loved it. I walked with no direction; I just kept going forward to the unknown. I think everyone should try to do that sometime, nothing feels like it.

Settled In

This town is now my town. This home is now my home. This university is now my university.

I now know the streets, know the buses, know where to find tea in my favourite supermarket. When a man stops me in the street and asks me about a place I can tell him how to get there. Hell, now the girl at Starbucks writes my name on the cup without asking me about it.

I am no longer a visitor, no longer a tourist. I now live here. I am part of this place, and it has become a part of me.

Over the weekend I left my home and went to Frankfurt and Koblenz. It was a nice change. I loved Frankfurt, I went there with thoughts that it is not that nice of a city because of how people talked about it. Being too modern to be German. But I loved it, it has a nice atmosphere to it.

Koblenz, on the other hand, is a very old city full of old buildings, reminded me much of 'the Book thief'. It was Sunday when I was in Koblenz though so we mostly saw the tourist attraction rather than the actual city, so I'd like to go back to it again.

It was around 10 pm on a quite kind of night with bits of rain falling and stopping when I arrived in Wiesbaden after a two day very fun but very exhausting trip, I walked out of the Hauptbahnhof and walked into bus 6 which is supposed to take me home. As soon as the bus moved I realized I was on the wrong one, but that was okay, I could go down at the next stop and cross the street to the right station to get the right bus.

The bus drove quite a distance before we got to the first stop, and I walked down. I crossed the street and got to my station, I looked at the time, luckily for me, the bus was in 13 minutes. I walked around a bit exploring this street I’ve never been on and came back to the station on time. The bus arrived a pulled over, I walked towards the back door cause it was closer to me, I waited and the door didn’t open. I clicked the button that opens the door, but it still didn’t open. I turned around to walk towards the front door and ask the bus driver about the problem, as I started taking my first step the bus started moving. And just like that, it was gone.

Because it is Sunday, the next bus was in 50 minutes. Waiting for it meant getting home at around 12. So I decided to walk home.

Walking 4 kilometres is no trouble for me on a normal day. But I was dead tired because we had walked all day, and I had a very heavy backpack that had my laptop, camera, and all of my luggage.

But I had no other option. I thought if I find a bus on the way back I'd take it. But I found none.

Really close to breaking down I walked by the closest bus stop to my house. There I found a man on a wheelchair with no legs. It sent shivers down my spine because, yes my legs were numb, but at least I had them. I smiled at him, he smiled at me and I walked up the stairs to my room.

I often forget how blessed I am. And it really makes me sad that it usually takes something to remind me. But lately, I've been counting my blessings every single day. They get me through the loneliness and the exhaustion.

I am proud of myself right now. I thought, the first night on my own is going to be hard. Eating alone is going to be sad. Walking alone is going to be lonely. And they are, but I am still enjoying them. And I'm proud that I haven't had a single breakdown since I got here. At first it worried me, because I've heard stories from all the other girls how they had it really hard the first couple of weeks. I kept thinking maybe I'm just living in denial and this will all hit me so hard all of a sudden. But no, I am completely aware of this new life I'm living. And I'm missing home so much, but I'm enjoying it. I really am. I am okay. I am happy.