looking for love in all the wrong places
I’m happy for now, but I’m still hurting. Life in Berlin is fine. I have my friends, I like my studies, I am content with my job, my apartment is great, my neighborhood cozy. My neighbors are annoying, but I can live with that. I am finally picking up on some hobbies – like rock climbing, for example – and am generally fit, I go running once a week with a friend, I have a regular breakfast date with Ansgar, things are okay. I’m still hurting.
I miss Russia. I look back at my notes from last year, and I feel a pang of pain. Things weren’t even that great back then, but I still miss it. There is no place that makes me feel quite as happy as Saint Petersburg. Even though there is barely anything left to care for in this city. My friends are almost all gone. It’s hard to make a decent living. The number one hang out activity is going to a bar, and the air is so polluted that running is impossible.
I still miss it. When I finally had everything sorted out to stay, Covid made it nearly unbearable to do so. I don’t even know if I would want to live there again long-term. I just wish I could visit as often as I feel homesick. Or maybe, that I could take everything I have here and move it there. Of course that’s impossible.
So I’m staying here, paralyzed, not knowing what to do. Once again I feel directionless in life. There are so many options, and I’m just waiting for one to manifest itself into a real path.