Who'da Thunk?

I miss Berlin. I miss the feel of Germany, the sounds and crosswalks and mannerisms of its public. I miss the taste of the air and the touching memorials and the confrontation of the past. I miss its hidden pockets of twinkle-light lit restaraunts. I miss seeing the river everyday and the Strandbars on its banks. I miss the additude. I miss my lack of responsibility yes, but I was just flipping through a book and landed on a page about the Memorial to Murdered Jews of Europe. My heart pulled apart for an instant, and I just pressed the picture to my chest. Remember this. You were here once. You stood beneath that tree, parked your bike and touched the hundreds of stones. You made your own path through those blocks just as the architect intended.

I didn't think, remember how fun that was? Remember all the food you ate and the times you laughed and how often you were lost? Remember your friends? No, that came later. At the moment all I felt was heartache.