We're sitting on the stairs. He wraps his arms around me and I hold onto him tight, a glass of Champagne in one hand.
When we unwrap I tell him "That was the best hug of the year for me," and I mean it.
He tells me he is jealous of the young man who got a kiss from me at midnight. He likes me. He says he is 37, but he has down syndrome and I'm told he'll always have the mindset of a 15-year-old. I see both a boy and a man in him. It takes courage to tell someone how you feel.
I explain that no one can own me and show him the tattoo on my finger. I tell him that I was married before but now I am with myself. We come to the happy conclusion that we can be friends.
It was a perfect end to the year. My family feasted with another wonderful family and we shared our goals for 2014. All travellers and dreamers, most of our aspirations were to live more, to take more chances, to continue taking the road less travelled.
Mine was to embrace my inner fool:
2013 was incredible. I re-shaped my values, made new friends, took risks, made mistakes, and fell apart and put myself back together so many times that I realized I am meant to come apart. I am getting very good at putting the pieces back together.
I am more comfortable not knowing my journey anymore. I've realized you can make travel plans but the best trips are last minute and plans often change. That's ok.
I'm wrapping up my last month in Berlin. I am finishing my job, assessing my goals, and drinking up as much of the city as I can before I go.
And then I'll pack my bags once more. This is only the beginning.