And I Will Miss You Most of All

Santa approved.

Yesterday in line at the grocery store a dime fell out of my wallet. The guy behind me picked it up, and in German made a comment about how it wasn't a German coin.

In my typical "I would rather pretend to understand what you are saying instead of just admitting I don't speak German" behavior, I smiled and nodded.

He soon realized I was totally faking it and asked me where I was from in English.

Then we fell in love.

Just kidding. But he did ask me a lot of questions about my life. After I told him I was leaving Berlin in a few weeks (I can't believe that's all I have left!), he pointed down to one of my purchases on the conveyor belt.

"I bet you're going to miss that," he said about my four-pack of Weihnachts Bier, aka Christmas Beer.

Oh boy you have no idea. When people ask me about my time here, I'm going to tell them the truth.

"I moved to Germany and fell in love. With the beer."

And then one single tear will delicately roll down my face while I remember our beautiful times together. Because it really is that good.

(I will not, however, recount any other stories of heartbreak because I have moved on and am now re-dead inside. Jaded Rachel 2012 Edition! Sure to be a real treat!)