Goodbye Sara

She had a way of actually listening when you talked to her. Most people are half-asleep, but she was there, paying attention. That was the thing about her—she paid attention to people, to the city itself, to what was actually happening instead of what you were supposed to say about it.

She’s leaving Berlin now. Not someday, actually leaving. She saved for it, planned it seriously, gave up everything easy. At 22, she just decided she needed to travel the world and committed to it the way most people don’t commit to anything. I watched her do that and I remember being struck by how real it was. No hesitation, no performance. Just a decision and the work to make it happen.

I didn’t see her as much as I should have in the last while. There’s plenty of time and then one day there isn’t, and you realize you let people slip by. Berlin’s big enough that you can do that without noticing. I kept thinking I’d meet up, catch her before she left, and then she was leaving and I hadn’t quite made it happen.

The city feels different without her in it now. Not because she was important or famous—just because she was actually awake in it, paying attention to what was real. That’s rarer than it should be. Most people move through places half-conscious. She was one of the few people who actually saw it.

Go on your trip, Sara. You’re actually going to do it. And I’m sorry I didn’t make more time for you while you were here.