we found sunday.

true to its name, the sun is actually here, for the first time since i arrived.

we went to bed with the sun.

apparently all of berlin is jet-lagged as well. it operates on some time frame where people go out at 2 am and party through the morning. time barely exists. i had my first berlin dance party last night. elizabeth and i went to christian's cafe for "remake movieoke--" a movie version of karaoke, in which people read lines from famous movie scenes. they also act. the crowd was attentive, engaged, and took the task very seriously. i laughed the loudest. i usually laugh the loudest, but here it is even more obvious. i was adamant not to participate, but just to absorb and try to follow. until a girl named vera told me, just as it was happening, that we were going to dance to a fat boy slim video. i was mortified. regardless, i pulled myself from my chair and onto the stage. 

and we danced to fat boy slim.

it was horrifying. and totally amazing. i gave it my all, somehow ended up being the main dancer, and had an awesome time. afterwards, movieoke descended into a wild dance party and i discovered that dancing is quite the universal language. what my mouth can't quite express yet in german, my body can. it says, i am fun. i have energy. i like to be alive.

i danced with a german boy in the hallway and he kept muttering things i couldn't understand through the language and the loud music, but i just responded with laughter and the dancing continued. one girl came to me and told me my performance was a "great success." i think i danced with everyone in the room. it went on for hours. sometime when the sun revealed itself, we came home and went to bed.

my feet hurt. they are happy feet.

the dancing was much needed after our day.

we were definite tourists, visiting the reichstag building, the brandenburg gate, the jewish memorial, the topography of terrors, the wall, and check-point charlie. it was overwhelming to be in a city with such prevalent and such recent history. the topography of terrors especially, which is a stretch of pictures and stories, lying on the former center of the gestapo, where people were interrogated and tortured, had a lot of resonance. i cried. everyone is aware of berlin's history, but this particular exhibit was so personal. letters written to wives just before the men were executed. pictures of families. photos of people being publicly humiliated for things we consider our rights. i admire the city for owning its history, for not ignoring what has happened, and the heaviness in those areas is palpable. it is still a part of every day life. 

as elizabeth and i looked for the wall, we suddenly looked across the street and discovered we were already there. she said is that the wall? and indeed it was. a wall. also true to its name. just a wall on the street, covered in graffiti, which now serves no purpose, but which once created such agony and division, where people died trying to escape their misery. history is woven into the streets. the berlin wall sits next to rows of cafes selling pastries and rich coffee. it is baffling. confusing. 

i was emotionally exhausted by the time we came home.

i am emotionally exhausted all the time.

i realized, i don't want to come home. i thought i did. i have a pit in my stomach almost always and i realized, it is not about san francisco as home. if i were to return to san francisco now, i might feel as awkward as i do here- without an apartment or a job or a plan. it is about home in general. it is about belonging somewhere. it is the realization that i am not defined by my surroundings, but that i am a singular person who creates important bonds with people and places, but who can exist anywhere as myself. as beth.

i feel scared about being my own person, about finding a home within myself. i need to become a turtle. be self-contained. carry my home with me. upon me. as part of me. instead of looking for it in other people.

i am exhausted. i am so exhausted. i feel hopeful, but always awkward, achy, strange.

i can hardly believe i left a week ago. it seems like an eternity ago, but also like yesterday. time has this odd elasticity, where it each minute extends endlessly but each hour passes in a blink. i am stretching and retracting across the days. i feel like taffy being made, being pulled and twisted. it becomes hopeless to try to follow one piece, to make any sense of what's happening other than some great wrenching, some softening of substance.

or perhaps in my case hardening.

or something.

i don't know.

i am really just desperate to be loved.

 and i think, for once, i am asking it of myself and that's why it hurts so much. because i refuse to say yes. to say okay. to say, i love you beth. to say, you are enough.