The Germany-Diaries-Part-1-The-Debacle
When we want something in life, we try everything and give it our very best… to get it.
And sometimes… that’s the only thing we allow ourselves to see.
Munich was no longer an idea.
It was a decision. A joining date. A direction that didn’t need discussion anymore.
And I didn’t hesitate. I just… chose it.
Scene 1 – Goodbyes
Goodbyes weren’t hard. Not the way people describe them.
No heavy chest. No dramatic pauses. Just… movement.
People around me felt it more than I did.
“Stay in touch.” “Don’t forget us.” “Come back soon.”
I smiled. Said the right things.
But internally, I was already somewhere else.
Because when something ahead of you feels important enough, everything behind you starts feeling… lighter.
Not less valuable. Just less urgent.
And urgency… is what drives emotion.
Leaving home felt different, though.
Quieter. Fewer words. More pauses.
My parents didn’t say much.
They said all the things parents say to first-time travellers… especially when it’s their kids.
“Take care.” “Eat properly.” “Call when you reach.”
Simple things. Normal things.
But I understood the emotions behind the words… unspoken.
A mix of pride… and letting go.
I nodded. Said I would.
And walked out carrying more than just luggage.
Somewhere in between all of this, there was a conversation.
Short. Simple. Almost casual.
“It’s just distance, right?”
“Yeah… we’ll figure it out.”
“Hmm.”
“It won’t change things?”
“No… It’s not a big deal.”
And that was enough.
At least… back then.
Scene 2 – The Airport, Again
Airports have this strange energy.
Everyone looks like they know what they’re doing – walking with purpose, headphones in, boarding passes ready.
Meanwhile, I was there doing what I do best – acting sorted while mentally running multiple tabs.
Documents. Check. Luggage. Check. Boarding gate. Check.
Sense of direction?
We don’t talk about that.
And then came the layover.
A long one. Plenty of time. Or at least… that’s what I thought.
Because no matter how many years pass, some things just never change.
A layover. A long wait. And an almost missed flight.
You’d think I would have learned.
Three years ago, somewhere between another airport and another story, I had done the exact same thing.
Had time. Lost focus. Reached the gate on final boarding call… like it was tradition.
And yet… here we were again.
Sitting comfortably. Scrolling aimlessly.
Convincing myself I had enough time… until suddenly, I didn’t.
That familiar shift.
From calm… to “oh shit.”
A quick glance at the time.
A fast walk that turned into something slightly more committed.
And then that moment. Final boarding. Again.
At this point, I don’t know if it’s poor time management… or just consistency.
Scene 3 – The Flight and Arrival
Once I finally made it to my seat, everything slowed down again.
That usual quiet.
And this time… there was no story here.
No chaos. No overthinking. No drama.
Just an unexpected luxury.
Sleep.
Landing in Germany didn’t feel dramatic.
No cinematic moment. No overwhelming emotion. Just… arrival.
A new place. A new rhythm.
A life that didn’t know anything about the one I had just left behind.
And that’s the thing about that phase.
Everything made sense.
The decision made sense. The timing made sense.
The way I handled things… made sense.
There was no conflict. No doubt. No second-guessing.
Just a clear belief that I was doing the right thing.
At least… at that time.
Sometimes, choices don’t feel heavy when you make them.
They just feel right.Because sometimes, what feels right in the moment…
is just what we’ve chosen to believe.