An Affair to Remember

When I was twenty years old, I had an affair with Marburg.

In a way, it would be great, truly great, if Marburg were actually a man, but Marburg is the town I studied in when I was in Germany my junior year of college. I had no real affairs that year (or any year, actually), but the footprints I left on that town’s cobblestone streets correspond to the footprints the town left on my entire being.

Marburg was mysterious and foreign, and don’t women stereotypically fall for the “strong silent types”? Marburg was strong: the town remained virtually unmolested through two world wars and a few centuries of architectural revolutions because of its silence. It was love at first sight. I wanted to learn every street, every alley, every staircase and passage that I could tread on my daily rambles.

I wandered regularly. I made a habit of it. The town’s pedestrian-friendly setup encouraged me to head out without a destination in mind, or if I had a destination, to find the most circuitous route there. Wandering slowly through the veins and arteries infusing the medieval town, I truly saw where I was. Discovering a fountain behind a forgotten cemetery was like discovering a freckle on your lover’s toe: a delightful surprise that just added to the elements that made the town unique and lovable.

Too many times, now that I’m back in the States, I realize I don’t truly know where I live. Just beyond my backyard, the road I drive every day to get into town is almost completely unfamiliar. I have never walked it slowly, watching for the wildflowers growing from the roadside gravel, noticing the flowerpots sitting above my neighbor’s kitchen door, or delighting in the way the road dips and curves with the valley floor.

Marburg was a temporary affair, as I knew all along. When the summer semester ended, I returned to Pennsylvania, leaving behind the body and soul of a town I knew almost as well as my own. When I consider my future, I wonder if I’ll ever return as a permanent resident to that town, or whether I should establish it in my heart as a deep and abiding fling that can sadly never be repeated.

I believe that, no matter where it ends up being, I’ll know I’ve found home when I can feel the same intimate connection with a place as I had with Marburg. And that one will be an affair to remember.