It can't all be daiseys and buttercups

So, I get the fantastic joy of being heartbroken while here in Prague. I learned that I placed my affections on someone completely unworthy and am now paying the price. Now, mind you this is hardly the first time it is has happened. However, this is the first time I have been so blind sided by it. I am usually pretty good at looking at the dirt-bags I have liked in the past and seeing them in all of their glory and caring for them anyway, thinking everyone needs someone on their side. Well, in the past week I have been informed the person I love, was seeing someone else and doesn't remember ever exchanging "I love you"s. Let me say, it has been quite a blow.

That being said, I have, in true Gillian style, hit my pragmatic best. I have never had a problem reminding myself there will always be another witty guy. I have never managed to be at a loss for good looking clever flirting partners. Add to that, I have managed to surround myself, quite unknowingly in the beginning, with some of the most amazingly supportive people. I just can't believe how lucky I am in my choice of friends all over the world.

And then of course there is this beautiful city I have moved to. What an inspiration to remind myself of how pragmatic and romantic I can be at the same time. To watch the castle light up the night sky and feel the energy of Vinohrady, makes me think Prague is the best place in the world to be heartbroken. There is something about this eclectic city which reminds me of my own dichotomies. The ornateness of the center of the city with its buildings from the medieval to art nouveau architecture being surrounded by the stark functionality of the communist boxes of the outer districts, seems to mirror my own hard/softness. Plus, I got to eat fries with a danseur and watch one of my roommates almost get into a fist fight with a French guy. It has been amazing.

The other plus of this turn of events, is I can finally stop pretending I ever want to move back to the States. I know you all called it, that you all know me better than I know myself. However, thankfully I can finally stop pretending to be okay with leaving this fantastic place. Well, and the other plus is, if I ever move to London, I can finally stalk Richard Armitage.