I’ve received many emails asking me about Munich recommendations. With each one I’ve read I’ve been simultaneously flattered, happy, and desperately sad. The kind of anxiety that I encounter when thinking about compiling my thoughts into one guide is on par with trying to decide what you should wear when you know you’ll going to see an ex.
This may sound incredibly insane. It may be. It probably is. But it’s how I feel.
Pictured above is my gorgeous, perfect (in my eyes) room, in my sweet apartment in downtown Munich. It was airy and lovely and even though it was old, and didn’t have air-conditioning, and was beyond noisy at night because of the traffic below—I loved that tiny apartment more than words could describe.
It was home.
And I felt like my dreams were coming to fruition and I never felt as happy and as excited as I did those big city days.
But, for reasons unforeseen, reasons having nothing to do with me, it all ended. I had three months to savor this life, if even for such a short amount of time. I never wanted it to end.
I remember the day I had to say goodbye and I remember what I wore and what I felt and what was said and what wasn’t said and it pains me. I said goodbye to too many dear friends and had one piece of luggage too many and I sobbed the entire cab ride to the airport. I remember my cab driver asking if he could do anything at all to help. And I remember saying: I wish there was. I wish there was.
But there wasn’t anything anyone could do really. I needed work. I needed to extend my Visa. All logistical nonsense that always is the problem for dreamers like me.
Sometimes I think it may have been better had I never gone back at all. Because sometimes getting a sample of your dream, knowing that it can and does come true, well there’s no coming back from that.
So what I’m saying is this: I’m sorry.
I’m sorry I don’t have the closure yet to be able to write about my favorite Munich haunts and where I loved to picnic on Friday nights in the park and why I’ll never forget that summer and the reasons why. Does this make me sound completely immature? Naive?
Well then, so be it.