Berlin. It has it all. Quick love, slow love, romantic and passionate, and inevitably, broken love. Berlin was my lover for the past three days. She showed me everything I was missing, fed me everything that I was wanting. With the passion freed and the heart awoken, I opened the unknown doors without knowing what was behind them; ardor or anguish? In the end, she gave me everything I deserved.
During the day she dazzled me with all her city sweets, strolled me along the walls of deep history and long lost moments. As the sun sets on her sexy streets, the wild sensual side awoke with a trembling of anticipation and pleasure. The evening gets as dark as the Ramazotti Schnapps she drinks and the mood as open.
The dancing starts with the music pumping and beats beating. You and her no longer move to the music, but the music moves you both, closer and closer, to unknown risks and wished rewards. The night turns to morning with eyes closed and the legs running. From the last slow salsa to the soft sheets of sleeping is but a blur of moments and minutes.
Then the morning comes with harsh glare of the angry sun. The hangover hits you with the reality of the empty bed, unkept promises, and the slow painful recognition of broken love as the train tears your you away from the breast of Berlin and back into the dull normalcy from which you began. With one last thought, riding on equal parts of ache and afterglow, I think to myself,
Berlin, Ich werde Sie nie vergessen!
5 comments:
Terry, I will never forget you!
....now give us the real story.
In good time, it will be written.
Thank you for writing this story.
You brought tears to my eyes :)
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