Berlin

I thought about him every day, the man on the other side of the wall. I dreamed about him every night, the man that I had fallen in love with. I had never seen his face, but I had fallen more in love with him than any person that I had ever laid eyes on. Every afternoon we stood guard at our posts and talked through the small hole that I stumbled upon by coincidence one day. At first we mostly talked about aimless things; our conversation topics ranging from things like various books, to our families, to even old jokes that we had heard here and there. One thing we never talked about though was the wall. We naively pretended it didn't exist, as if we weren't there to guard it. I made the mistake of mentioning it once. His initial response was silence followed by a sudden short-handed excuse to leave. After that I pretended along with him that there wasn't an enormous concrete wall separating us.

As we began to spend a majority of our shifts together, we started to learn certain things about one another. I learned that he was allergic to bee stings and liked birds better than both dogs and cats. I imagine that he learned that I couldn't ride a bike and that I loved my mother's beef stew more than any other food. We had things in common too such as our favorite band being Pink Floyd and having a habit of perfectly quoting from old Marlon Brando films. Of course, at first, our conversations held more of a friendly tone until one day he confessed, barely loud enough for me to hear, that he loved me.

I was so relieved when I heard this that I actually felt like crying with joy! I whispered back that I loved him too and after that we became lovers. It was also after this that I began to hold a certain hate in my heart for the wall that kept us apart. Despite its presence, however, his and my relationship continued to flourish.

On warm days he would recite poetry to me that he wrote, and on cool nights I would feel the need to write a poem back to him despite having never written a poem a single day in my life. He would laugh when I recited my poems to him and I would have to lie and tell him that I wasn't blushing when he told me how much he loved them.

I admit though that, at first, I thought our love was unfortunately fleeting. All it would take was a simple schedule change to break us a part and I would never see him again. And how would I find him? I didn't know his name for some time after first meeting him. I would sometimes think about asking him what it was, but could never bring myself to do so. As always he took the initiative.

"By the way, my name is Oskar Drescher."

He told me this one August day after a brief conversation about rock music and left due to shift change. That night I lay in bed repeating it to myself over and over again until that was all I could hear in my head.

Oskar Drescher.

Oskar Drescher.

Oskar Drescher.

Oskar Drescher my lover.

Oskar Drescher my beloved.

I wanted to meet him in person more than ever after that, but alas there was that damned wall still standing high and mighty between us. I began to fear that I would never get to see my Oskar Drescher in person. In the end all I could do was imagine him, on my way home after a long day or sitting alone eating my meals. I imagined him with brunette hair- something in contrast to my blonde- with warm brown eyes. I imagined how always stiff and upright he stood as opposed to my slouched posture. I even imagined that, when he was nervous, he would chew his lips, never bite his nails. As I said though, I feared I would never find out.

Then great news! The wall was coming down! I would get to see my beloved Oskar Drescher! I was elated beyond compare.

The morning of November 9th I stood in front of my mirror fearful of my appearance. What if I wasn't as he imagined? What if he hated how I looked? I had been told on some occasions that I had a handsome face but what if he didn't think so? He never seemed one to base his opinion simply on looks but what if he really did! I fixed my hair this way and that, stood upright and examined myself in my uniform for hours until it was time to leave.

I arrived at a part of the wall and stood in formation along with my fellow officers. There was a big commotion by this time. People climbed on top of the wall, others cheered down below on the ground, their voices carrying high into the air. Pieces of the wall had already been chiseled away by anxious civilians and I could see some of the metal rods built beneath the concrete. In the midst of all this I, along with other soldiers, were ordered to remove these people even if it meant doing so by force.

I didn't want to- I was just as excited as them! - but I did and waited both solemnly and anxiously for it to finally be over.

When the wall finally came down everyone cheered. Everyone was running and cheering and waving flowers and hands in the air and all the while all I could think of was, "Where is my Oskar Drescher?"

A woman came by and handed me a yellow daisy. I forced a smile and placed it in my breast pocket then continued searching for him...

I don't know how I knew it was him, I just did. He was standing in the crowd with a cup grasped in his hands and pink flowers stuffed in his breast pocket. I approached him slowly, cautiously, and called his name.

"Oskar Drescher?" I asked. He looked up at me with brown eyes then slowly a smile moved his lips. Without warning he hugged me, spilling his drink onto the gravel.

No one was suspicious of us as we embraced as everyone was doing it and I buried my face in his dark hair.

"I've wanted to hold you for so long." I said in his ear and it was in that moment, as everyone celebrated the fall of the Berlin Wall, that I celebrated meeting the love of my life, Oskar Drescher.