i am in our hotel in prague, sitting on the balcony of the most precious little hotel, listening to billie holiday. i am four stories above, peering down streets that disappear quickly into mazes of cobblestone and spired roofs. this is the most incredible city i've ever seen. dizzying and rich and almost offensively beautiful. it is unreal.

i woke up at 6 am, too excited to sleep, and said goodbye callously to berlin. i could not be emotional about it. i will be back at the end of next month and somehow it is so familiar now, it is ingrained in me. i know i will be back many times.

we wandered a bit upon our arrival and i was, as i often am, racked with nerves. i have heard so much about prague and have been anticipating it so much that, initially, i was too filled with expectations to relax. but it was stunning. we crossed the charles bridge, feasted on berries and nectarines from the farmer's market, drank in the sights, enjoyed some pasta and ice cream, sweated out sun and excitement. over dinner, thomas and i talked about traveling. what the "point" is, why people do it, what it's worth. and i figured, eventually, that, despite the immense beauty of the places and people i see, this is all about me. at least this time. this is about me, being in new places and thus being able to see myself differently.

it is almost like where's waldo. on each page, he's in a new scene. and it forces you to look for his familiar traits. you look for that striped shirt. that pom-pom hat. those round black glasses. he is always the same, but it's the searching that makes it fun. it is discovering yourself and your place in a new framework that makes it valuable. what is my essence. what will i find to be true in every setting. what defines me. if someone were looking for beth, what would they seek. do i look the same next to the eiffel tower as i do next to the brandenburg gate. who am i. where's beth. 

it is not so much an existential crisis, as it is a matter of unfolding.

i love talking to thomas. he is rational and pragmatic, but never without hope. he helps me see myself.  he sees me through rose-colored glasses. or maybe just without the grey-tinted glasses i use to look inward. he sees me clearly.

i finally relaxed when we came back to the hotel, before going out tonight. we are going to a jazz concert. i am going to a jazz concert in prague! unbelievable.

i came back a little before thomas and was resting. i didn't know where he'd been and when he arrived, he had a bag of snacks. with everything in twos. the noah's ark of treats. cheeses and rolls, warm from the oven.  candy bars and fruits and water and jogurt. he pulled them out of his bag, one at a time, and lined them up excitedly on the table. and finally, i felt ecstatic. sitting in a hotel in prague with a man i adore and a happy feast ahead of me. i felt calm. i am better at seeing when it is in small doses, when i am not expecting anything.

so that is my new challenge for myself. to not expect, but just accept. to try to dismiss my notions of what should be. how i should feel, what i should experience, and just let it come. let go. and let life be.

i am going to take a shower and put on a clean dress. i am going to go out into the stunning, winding streets of prague where the sky now looks like it is made of melon sorbet. creamy and pink and soft. i am going to listen to jazz. i am going to see about a girl named beth. and i am going to feel whatever i feel. but i have a strong inclination, that feeling might be amazing.