When I met P, I think I was finally ready to meet P. I spoke it out to God, to the Universe, I'm ready. I wanted my great love. I wanted to move somewhere that moved a little slower with my person (probably was thinking more along the lines of like Tennessee than Germany, but hey, whatayagonnado?). I joke but I really can't even fathom the timing with which the Universe brought this person into my life-- it keeps me believing there is hope in the letting go and let the Universe take care of it. By this point in life, I had friends who had married 'the one,' divorced, and had already moved onto 'the next one.' But I had waited. Actually, that's a very nice way of putting it. What I really did was date all the 'not ones' in the interim (Hey Erik, Hey Xander.) Now, at age 28, I felt I had reached maximum perfection of the self (ha!) and was ready to find a maximally perfect man with which to join forces.
**P enters stage Left, sits down at dimly-lit Manhattan bar, makes girl laugh for 7 hours, pays for her Moscow Mules.
Batta-bing-batta-boom, right? Wrong. By date three, I was totally smitten, and that's when he said (in summary) he had taken a job before we met and was moving back to Germany but would like to see where this goes. To which, I said to the Universe: What the, (and I can't stress this enough) actual F? And then I said to Philipp: Okay, very cool. Have a nice time, thank you for all the Moscow Mules, Good Day Sir. Upon consideration, we made a plan to see where this special thing goes, and now here we are. I won't get into all the details, because even for me, some things are sacred. But suffice it to say that you don't make an international move for butterflies or even for free Moscow Mules. This was like life-changing, howdoesthishumanevenexistatthesametimeIexist, ground-shaking, all-consuming love stuff, and despite all the doubts I had about literally everything else, I never doubted that.
P moved away on October 4. I say this like the basic white girl I am, it was the literal worse. We did long-distance for some time, cried in a lot of airports. It wasn't the best, but we make the time count and it certainly affirmed what I thought to be true, which was that I was head-over-heels for this man and that he's basically the most responsible human on Earth-- with paperwork and with my heart. It felt silly at that point to shout to the Universe, bring me my person, and then say hey thanks but no thanks, Germany is far. So, I applied for a German Master's Program, outlined a book to write, packed my bags, downloaded a German-language learning app, quit a job that I loved and took off. I'd never lived with a man before, had never gone grocery shopping in a German supermarket, and had certainly never taken a leap of faith without a fallback plan. Some called it brave, some called it stupid. I think it was a little of both.
One thing I can tell you is that most of my family members were incredibly supportive. One of my family members was not great about it. Most of my friends were ecstatic, one of them, not so much. Actually, this friend invited me to breakfast on my birthday and told me that I was making a huge mistake and that I didn't actually know Philipp at all. It wasn't a discussion; it was a talking-to. And it really got to me. With a year of clarity, I can say this friend didn't think I was doing something bad for me. This friend thought I was doing something bad for them. I let it fester for far too long. I let it fester for so long that I began to fester, myself. F. Scott wrote, in a letter to this daughter, "Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds" and it's the truest thing I currently know. This is a thing that I do and you'll certainly hear more of it later, but I'm trying to learn to let go of festering lilies. The people who don't support your leaps are not your people, and for whatever reason, despite having so many friends excited for my choices, it's so easy to hear only the voice of negativity. I just had this Charlotte moment (S&TC reference) of "I choose my choice, I choose my choice. Get behind my choice!" And I had to be my own Miranda and say "YOU get behind your choice." The longer I've been here, in this country and in my home, the more I realize that my gut was spot-on. Despite any difficulties, this was the right decision, and my partner, my family, and my friends have made up for any lack of support from the ones I thought loved me. It's an aside, but it's also something I want to convey. Your gut knows you better than your family does, than your friends do, than anyone does. And only you know what decisions you can live with and which ones you can't. My gut has pushed me to some fairly unconventional decisions, but the big ones have always been right. I have learned that you gotta stop asking for everyone's opinion. You gotta sit down, alone, get quiet, and ask you. Then tell the people you love, don't ask.
Here's the excerpt from my journal, January 25, 2018:
I'm sitting in Lesecafé near our first Frankfurt apartment and I'm already sure that this will be my hideaway. I had really hoped that it would click right away in Frankfurt the way that it did in New York or London, but that's not the way it's happened. I never know if those feelings are accurate or fear-based because I don't speak the language and I have to do now my least-favorite thing, rely on a man, until I get this new culture and language understood. What I did find when I came home yesterday, was my boys waiting for me and I realized I have never made myself uncomfortable for love, not once. But also, I've never had a man build me bookshelves. I think this will be the most difficult thing I've ever done and I'm only more terrified after having been here for four days. What a sinking feeling to not understand the words being spoken to you, or to rely so heavily on another person to help you out. But this man, he does it so kindly and somehow miraculously does it in a way that doesn't make me feel helpless. I know this can't come without effort on his end. He is such a rock. And the timing with which he walked into my life is currently the thing I'm most grateful for-- at a time when I could fully appreciate him for who he is and all he does. Despite feeling like a stranger in this new city, I feel safe in my new home. I am so happy to be there with P and Gatsby. I feel in no hurry to email back, to post on social media, to get to this next thing or that. What an odd feeling to feel so happy and so lost at the same time. What was that Perks of Being A Wallflower quote? It was something like that. Anyway, I'll get back to my book now. Talk tomorrow.
"So this is my life, and I want you to know that I'm both happy and sad, and I'm still trying to figure out how that can be?" --Stephen Chbosky, Perks of Being a Wallflower
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