I’ve never been any good at endings. When things start to wind down, I, every time, get sad, and sort of preemptively nostalgic – I start to miss tings before they’re even gone. I have found myself fingering my keys, ruminating on how, very soon, I won’t be using them anymore. And the end of Prague, which is sneaking up on me (the program ends Friday, and I leave the city on Saturday morning for Paris and three weeks of traveling around Europe before I go home), is even worse. I will not only be leaving all these people I love, but leaving a city I’ve grown accustomed to and grown into, to return to boring New Jersey and, oh dear, the Real World.
And, of course, this past weekend was particularly perfect and glorious. Having finally figured out who I like here, I hung out with exactly the people I wanted to be with (plus a good friend visiting from Berlin). We climbed Petrin Hill and looked out at the city, at night, all glittering lights and fireworks for Czech Labor Day. It might have been one of the best views of Prague I’ve ever seen, and when Shelby said “Man, I love this city” we all shushed him, not wanting to think too much about this city, and how soon we would leave it.
And the next night we went to Cross Club, one of many places I’ve been meaning to go for a long time now. It’s a sprawling club made out of old train and car parts – the tables are metalworks and train seats, there are traffic lights hung from the ceiling and metal sculptures out into the garden. It was profoundly, profoundly cool. And I thought to myself, Man, I wish I’d come here earlier, and could come again, and hang out here. But then I thought, “To have come here earlier, I would have had to not do something else that I’ve done in this city…and there’s not really any nights (aside from the ones spent doing homework) that I’m willing to give up.” And so I felt better but still sad – there is too much to do here, and not enough time to do them all, to squeeze all the people and places I want into such a short period of time. But that’s what life is, isn’t it?