I had one of those well-packed weekends – it came and went.
I had invited a friend over for dinner on Friday, took a long walk with another friend on Saturday morning, visited another at her place in the afternoon and spent my Sunday on a day trip in Szczecin with others.
I literally had to speed-bake on Saturday morning, race to point A with my bike and my fingers pink from the cold, spend some good time, race back with the bike, try to catch my breath, and race to point C.
We also took the train early on Sunday morning, way earlier than I was used to. On the way back, I sat next to a friendly man, as we conversed at ease in German.
In retrospect, I think I’m doing relatively well, living without H in Berlin. I’m filling up my weekends and I’m working on my German.
I truly enjoyed the weekend. It’s not that I was guilty that I had fun without him. I didn’t. I knew he wanted me to have fun here and create my own Berlin life.
But somehow, while I was thrilled to meet friends and have a good time with them, I still cannot shake off the feeling of knowing it would be just so much better if H was here. H makes everything way more fun without realising it.
If only the next 8 weeks would go by as swiftly as the weekend did.