Hola again!

It feels so good to sit down and write to you again. Somehow, it always feels like forever since my last letter, and I always look forward to this quiet moment: sitting with a cup of tea, a candle, a blank page, and getting to catch you up on everything that has been happening. And this month... there is a lot that I want to tell you, so I hope you are also sitting down with a cup of tea or coffee and enjoying this slow moment.

You might remember that some months ago I introduced you to a little part of my world. I told you about Taco, my life here in Berlin, and the person who I was sharing it with. Then, a couple of months ago, I found myself writing about learning to enjoy my own company, taking myself on little solo dates, and building a life that feels full even when I'm by myself.

Now that I look back, I think it's funny how life sometimes knows what it's preparing us for before we do... because a few weeks after writing that letter, I unexpectedly found myself at the end of a five-year relationship and even though part of me could see it coming, it still hurt in ways I wasn't prepared for.

The past few weeks have looked a little different than usual. Some days have felt light, full of excitement for what's next and others have been much heavier, where all I wanted to do was cry, stay home, and let myself feel everything. I've been reminding myself that both kinds of days deserve space and that healing isn't a straight line. It rarely looks like steady progress. More often, it looks like taking two steps forward, one step back, and slowly realizing that you're still moving.

As difficult as this last month has been, it has also brought some unexpected gifts and positive, exciting things. In just a few days, I'll be moving to a new city, I am moving to Düsseldorf! It's a city I've always really liked, but what makes this move so special isn't only the place itself. It's that, after almost ten years of living in Europe away from my family, I'll finally get to live in the same city as my brother and that thought still feels a little surreal and very exciting. I'm looking forward to the simple things like inviting him over for a random cup of coffee, going on walks with Taco together and just having family close by, without needing to book a flight first.

I've also spent countless of hours packing boxes, planning the apartment, choosing furniture, picking little decorations, imagining cozy corners and dreaming about the moment when everything is finally finished... and that's when I noticed something about myself, I have a habit of living just a little too far into the future.

When La Cartita had twenty subscribers, I couldn't wait until there were fifty. When there were fifty, I dreamed about one hundred. Before a trip, I spend weeks imagining arriving instead of enjoying the days before leaving. And now, instead of appreciating these last weeks in Berlin, I catch myself wishing it would already be moving day. It's as if I'm always standing on tomorrow's doorstep instead of noticing the room I'm already in, and the funny thing is... the place I'm in right now isn't a bad place to be. Yes, I have a broken heart. Yes, I'm saying goodbye to a city that has been my home for six years. Yes, I'm excited about everything that's coming...

But these last weeks in Berlin are also part of my story. They're mornings with Taco, walks through familiar streets, coffee in my favorite cafés, packing boxes while imagining what comes next, and little moments that, one day, I know I'll probably miss.

I've realized that every chapter deserves to be lived while we're in it. Even the unfinished ones, even the uncertain ones, even the ones we're eager to leave behind. So, that thought became the inspiration for this month's illustration. Originally, I wanted to leave it as nothing more than a pencil sketch because I felt that somehow it made sense, as a reminder that not everything beautiful has to be complete. But of course, you know me ... in the end, I could not resist adding some color.

I'd love to know more about your "now.", not the place you're trying to get to, not the version of yourself you're working towards, but the chapter you're living today. Because I believe that the page we're so eager to turn is one we'll wish we had read a little more slowly. So if you feel like it, feel free to write me a letter telling me about where you are at, too. My Berlin PO box will be working until mids of November, so you can still use it for the next months. I will be sharing the new address with you as soon as I receive it.

I am so thankful that you are part of this club and to be building a nice friendship with you.

I Can't wait to write to you again! Until next month's Cartita.

With love,

Mercy