![]() ![]() I’m starting to wonder why I am so far away from the people I love.I like the version of me who travels better. ![]() I’m starting to question if living in a big city is really living.I don’t know why I’m paying rent for a place I’m never in.Why did I move here in the first place?.But the things that initially drew me here aren’t as important anymore, and I’m starting to feel that although it’s bittersweet, this chapter is coming to an end. ![]() It’s strange, because I can remember a time when getting approved for my visa was the most important thing in the world to me. That was over five years ago, and seeing the Festival of Lights again this year was so symbolic, as though it had come full circle, because my on-again, off-again love affair with Berlin is coming to an end. I made a promise to myself back then that I would come back and live here, a promise I made good on that following summer. ![]() I’d visited each of these buildings the first time I came to Berlin, marveling at the gritty, enigmatic city I’d discovered. I had forgotten that every fall the Festival of Lights comes to town, projecting patterns on the major buildings throughout Berlin’s Mitte neighborhood, synced to music. I rode in the back of the taxi, weaving through the empty city streets, the lights reflected in the wet pavement and the walls of the Berliner Dom. ![]()
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