This town is now my town. This home is now my home. This university is now my university.
I now know the streets, know the buses, know where to find tea in my favourite supermarket. When a man stops me in the street and asks me about a place I can tell him how to get there. Hell, now the girl at Starbucks writes my name on the cup without asking me about it.
I am no longer a visitor, no longer a tourist. I now live here. I am part of this place, and it has become a part of me.
Over the weekend I left my home and went to Frankfurt and Koblenz. It was a nice change. I loved Frankfurt, I went there with thoughts that it is not that nice of a city because of how people talked about it. Being too modern to be German. But I loved it, it has a nice atmosphere to it.
Koblenz, on the other hand, is a very old city full of old buildings, reminded me much of 'the Book thief'. It was Sunday when I was in Koblenz though so we mostly saw the tourist attraction rather than the actual city, so I'd like to go back to it again.
It was around 10 pm on a quite kind of night with bits of rain falling and stopping when I arrived in Wiesbaden after
a two day very fun but very exhausting trip, I walked out of the Hauptbahnhof
and walked into bus 6 which is supposed to take me home. As soon as the bus
moved I realized I was on the wrong one, but that was okay, I could go down at
the next stop and cross the street to the right station to get the right bus.
The bus drove quite a distance before we
got to the first stop, and I walked down. I crossed the street and got to my
station, I looked at the time, luckily for me, the bus was in 13 minutes. I walked around a bit exploring this street I’ve
never been on and came back to the station on time. The bus arrived a pulled
over, I walked towards the back door cause it was closer to me, I waited and
the door didn’t open. I clicked the button that opens the door, but it still
didn’t open. I turned around to walk towards the front door and ask the bus
driver about the problem, as I started taking my first step the bus started
moving. And just like that, it was gone.
Because it is Sunday, the next bus was in
50 minutes. Waiting for it meant getting home at around 12. So I decided to walk home.
Walking 4 kilometres is no trouble for me on a normal day. But I was dead tired because we had walked all day, and I had a very heavy backpack that had my laptop, camera, and all of my luggage.
But I had no other option. I thought if I find a bus on the way back I'd take it. But I found none.
Really close to breaking down I walked by the closest bus stop to my house. There I found a man on a wheelchair with no legs. It sent shivers down my spine because, yes my legs were numb, but at least I had them. I smiled at him, he smiled at me and I walked up the stairs to my room.
I often forget how blessed I am. And it really makes me sad that it usually takes something to remind me. But lately, I've been counting my blessings every single day. They get me through the loneliness and the exhaustion.
I am proud of myself right now. I thought, the first night on my own is going to be hard. Eating alone is going to be sad. Walking alone is going to be lonely. And they are, but I am still enjoying them. And I'm proud that I haven't had a single breakdown since I got here. At first it worried me, because I've heard stories from all the other girls how they had it really hard the first couple of weeks. I kept thinking maybe I'm just living in denial and this will all hit me so hard all of a sudden. But no, I am completely aware of this new life I'm living. And I'm missing home so much, but I'm enjoying it. I really am. I am okay. I am happy.