I know I've mentioned in the past that I can be a tad bit superstitious about things. I can get past the black cats and broken mirrors but I often wonder if certain occurrences are the universe's way of trying to communicate with me. You know, like, signs.
These past few months, I've been begging the universe to give me a goddamn sign, to tell me what to do with my life. My married parent friends sometimes get so bogged down in their own stuff that my life seems very appealing to them. "You're so free! You can do whatever you want!" they might say to me. Then I remind them of my meager, inconsistent wage which does not quite allow me to do whatever I please. And those adventurous actions of mine that look so spontaneous to them? They are generally very calculated and often quite anxiety producing.
Sometimes, I yearn for a partner, not even for the romantic wonderfulness that is love but just so there would be another factor in my life which could serve as some sort of parameter. When you are "free" to do anything, the world can feel pretty damn overwhelming. However, if your partner is working his dream job in Portland, you've got a starting point.
Without parameters to help reign me in, I now find myself looking for signs.
As I was packing up a few days ago, I was digging through the pockets of an old suitcase when suddenly, a ten euro bill fell out of it. I stuck my hand in further and found a collection of old maps and train schedules. They were from my backpacking trip through Europe seven years ago. I smiled, thinking about my adventures back then. I had backpacked solo for four weeks through Spain, France, Belgium, Germany, the Czech Republic, and Austria before meeting my (then) boyfriend in Italy. Remembering how independent I felt, roaming from country to country, hopping trains, constantly orienting myself to new cultures and languages all on my own, I felt proud. But then I thought, Why in the world am I acting like I can't get myself back to Europe? I've done such more difficult things in the past! I got dumped in the hills of Austria on a snowy night, following the train tracks back to town, for God's sake! I can DO this!
And almost like that, I thought, Decision made. Berlin, here I come. Again.
For the rest of the day, I felt more relaxed. I felt even a teeny bit happy.
That night, after hours of packing and tons of email catch up, I plopped myself into bed and decided to treat myself to some light reading. Cozy and warm, I opened my book to find my niece's sweet face staring at me. (I typically use her photos as my bookmarks). My eyes instantly began to water and I thought, But can I really?
I barely slept that night. I tossed and turned and had awful dreams. I woke up the next day, once again feeling discouraged and confused. Today, I saw Jack for the first time since Berlin. When I arrived at his day care to take him home, he ran to me with a huge grin on his face. He kept coming to me all night for hugs and cuddles. It felt so good. Yet, as we played with his toys from our Berlin days, I ached inside. I remembered which little play things I had stuffed into his stroller the day I took him to the top of the Reichstag. I thought about feeding him a warm pretzel from the bakery down the street on a blustery day. I recalled many nights of saying goodnight to him and his mother before throwing on some lipstick and hitting the cobblestone streets.
So here I am again. Tired, confused, staring at my niece's picture across the room. Universe, I think I know what I need to do but I really need a much bigger sign from you. I can wait til this weekend but please don't make me wait much longer. I'm tired.
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