Berlin is cheating on me, but I don’t mind.
My dearest love, Berlin,
My grandmother once told me to never fall into a deep, helpless love. She told me the euphoric, intense feelings don’t outweigh the immense lows and deep depression that inevitably accompany those highs.
But when have I ever followed advice given to me?
You were always someone I had my eyes on. The idea of you had been impregnated in my mind early in my life. Though I had never fathomed you would ever feel the same way.
It took time for the love to grow to the unbearable size it is now. As I discovered you, I discovered myself. Your were so selfless to allow me to develop independently. You let me wander your streets, stumble through your nights, learn about your history at my own pace.
I’m sure I wasn’t the first to fall for that trick. You lure us wandering, lost souls in with the promise of freedom and inspiration.
I don’t remember exactly when this independence ceased to exist. I don’t know when you took over my mind, my dreams, any capacity I had left to love someone or something else. All I know, is now I am incapable of fathoming a life without you.
Though I have been nothing but devoted to you, I cannot say the same about you, my dear. You were never faithful to me. But I somehow enjoy this one sided, non monogamous relationship we are in. The idea that there are other helpless idiot who’ve fallen for you comforts me. And how thoughtful of you to consider not only me, but them as well.
I am convinced not one of your lovers experiences you the same way. We all wake up in the middle of the night, having had a different dream. The dream was about you, but unique to our individual connection with you. You fill the empty spaces in our heart, and our minds. You manage to morph constantly, depending on who needs what.
So you see?
Do you see why I don’t mind that you cheat on me?
I will never be able to give you, what you give 3 million individuals.
But my grandmother was wrong. The intense sensation of individuality, the irrational euphoria at 3am that makes you scream, the absolute certainty that you will never feel anything like this ever again, is worth it. I feel drained and empty thinking about leaving you. I experience a depression like never before when I think about my life without our late night talks and cigarettes in my windowsill. But my grandmother was wrong. The ups do outweigh the downs. And they always will with you, my love.
Yet another idiot who is helplessly in love with you.