Berlin

Ana Volkland

by Ana Volkland

Story
Berlin 2016

I close the door and take a deep breath in.

“I’m so sorry.”

4 months. 4 months of spending every lunch break together, 4 months of staying at each other’s place, getting Berliner Currywurst and getting drunk together. 4 months of deep talks, loud laughs and big, revealing smiles.

“People tell me I’m flirtatious…but…that’s just me, you know.”

4 months and I sit here on a packed suitcase thinking: Sometimes the most obvious things do not become real. “It’s OK, never mind.”
I look out of the window and wait for the sound of the heavy front door. There you are, walking to the intersection of Prenzlauer Allee and Danziger Straße. You take a turn. And then: You’re gone.

“Let’s stay in touch anyway. I mean, I also have you on social networks, right?! And maybe you can send me a postcard, haha.”
I hear the echo of our now insignificant conversation.
I will not send you a postcard. We will not stay in touch.

I lie awake all night, listening to the hustle and bustle on Prenzlauer Allee outside and, one last time, I breathe in the smell of freshly baked pizza that wafts over from the Italian place next door.
I remember my first day here, heaving my huge suitcase up on the second floor. No elevator, simply old, dilapidated and squeaky wooden stairs. It was just as I had imagined it. A typical old Berlin building, with an apartment that welcomed me with huge rooms, high ceilings, an uncomfortable sofa bed and cold walls that kept me cool during those unexpectedly warm spring and early summer days in the city.
I remember my first day at the office, when Andrea introduced us, and when you threw a big bright smile at me. A smile that – I thought – got bigger and brighter with every week we got closer to each other, but which suddenly disappeared last week when I finally intended to give into it.

What a crazy four months. I had the best and probably the worst coffee, too many overpriced burgers, I had been to all the parks, got lost on the subway, drove the S-Bahn ring, gone to a rave, seen people shit in the streets and fuck outside next to a bridge pier for everyone to see and hear. I had taken selfies in front of every major city attraction, gone to a really shady club, got my bike stolen, and, of course, bought vintage clothes that I’ll never wear. I laughed, I puked and I cried.
After all, it is true what they say: Berlin is a beast. But I love it anyway.

More than I loved you before you took your smile away from me again. The memories feel heavy now, and I sink further into my pillow.

I start thinking about what movies they will probably offer on the plane and how many of them I can squeeze into a 9.5 hour flight. It’s been exactly one year and I can’t wait to go back. One last time, Good night Berlin <3


© Ana Volkland 2024-09-13

Genres
Novels & Stories
Moods
Abenteuerlich, Emotional, Unbeschwert, Lighthearted