I'm not a quiter. I hate the feeling and it usually leads to a healthy bout of self loathing. So I'm the person who doesn't even consider leaving a position. Until now. My host mom came to me last Tuesday, two days after finishing my thesis, and said she just wasn't happy and she didn't know what to do. After an hour and a half of crying, serious conversation I was left confused, newly stressed and a little disappointed. For me I was just starting to relax into being with this family full time, keeping them in mind all of the time, and really starting to live a German life style. For them it had been two months of me spending evenings and days off in my room working on something to do with America, and they don't know what to do with that. There were a lot of emotions expressed by Tina that night, emotions I wasn't registering, and it made me consider whether I wanted to be there or not. And so ultimately I decided, I don't want to. And so I'm leaving.
It's a scary thing, jumping off a cliff, having no safety net. Making decisions that take away all plans you had, including things like where you're going to live. And I'm doing this by choice. This is the closest I've ever been to homeless, and even then I can always fly home or hop on a train.
Now for any family or friends out there, I'm not coming home. Not right away at least. My beautiful Oregon will have to wait, at least until Oktoberfest is over. And then, it's nearly anyone's guess. What's magical is that every avenue is open to me, but then again, what's terrifying is that every avenue is open to me.
But we've got a few weeks of security left. One week when the family is on vacation (I'm no longer going with them clearly) and I'll get to spend days being a tourist around Munich. So let me show you where I've been, and when I know, let me tell you where I'm going.
Good night, and good luck. (literally said this on accident to Mike while he was trying to fix the cable box last night)
Ellbow
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