Harry and I are a complicated affair. We met in our second year at University. I study marketing, and he studies business management. That's the extent of our connection.

While he spent every waking moment watching football matches and placing bets online, I had my head buried in my books. I'm a daydreamer, whilst he has his head firm on the ground. He decides the most important decision on a whim, and I'm uncertain of the air that I breathe. I fear venturing on my own while he has been involved in his family business since he was sixteen.

We are as different as we can be, but we make each other laugh when we're together. We never spoke of long-term plans. Harry is my first serious boyfriend that has lasted longer than a blink of an eye, and navigating this relationship is like riding a bike for the first time without training wheels, always stumbling, trying to find balance. We are happy when we are together, but we are also forgetful of one another when we are apart, and this year, in particular, has proven the most challenging to our relationship.

Harry's family business is in Scotland, and with our impending graduation, his focus is once again on joining his family import-export business in Edinburgh, while I'm focused on finding a creative writing opportunity.

Even though we both know the relationship won't stand the test of time, we're both too afraid to admit it.

London in summer is always at his brightest and even though it's only 6 pm, the sun is still shining through. Londoners are walking outside with t-shirts and shorts, since the country has been hit with consecutive heat waves, and sip their ice drinks while basking in the sun.

I'm leaving for Germany in two weeks' time and will stay there until the end of March, maybe even the beginning of April. I wonder how different life in Germany will be. Are they also sipping their cold drinks and parading in their summer apparatus, or am I going to stand out as a sore thumb?

I'm leaning against Harry, with an iced caramel macchiato on my lips, while beneath a large tree that provides with shade in Hyde Park, watching people going about their lives and in my head making up stories as they go along. This is one of my favourite pastimes.

Harry points at a man in a suit sitting down on a bench with a newspaper open.

"Oh, he is definitely a spy waiting to make contact." I declare.

Harry laughs. "Everyone in a suit for you is a spy."

I swat him gently. "He has all the hallmarks! Suit, check, newspaper, check, too good-looking for his own good, double-check..."

"Are you checking him out while I'm here?"

I smile and take another sip. "Just stating facts. Wait and see, there will be a person sitting next to him. They'll share a brief conversation and he will conveniently leave the newspaper."

He kisses my forehead tenderly. "So, six months in Germany?" His change of topic catches me off guard. "That's a massive opportunity for you." I stare at his frown, that contradicts his encouraging words.

Harry always has a way with words much like the skills of a gifted salesman that sells you the car you don't want to buy.

"You're not worried about us?" I ask.

He looks down at me and strokes my hair softly."Of course not," his hazelnut eyes betray his words. "We've been managing just fine so far."

This was the third time we were together in the last three months. An average of once a month. Harry has been spending more time travelling for business, or in Scotland tending to business affairs, and taking most of his classes remotely. The distance has taken a toll on the relationship, but neither of us is quite ready to put the nail on the coffin. We both know we haven't been managing and there is an unspoken truth that the relationship won't stand the added 355 miles, but somehow we continue to play this charade.

"I can come and visit you, or you can come to visit me. We will make it work, babe." His false hope inflates my wavering mind and calms my heart. "Think of it as training for when you travel around the world promoting your book." He chuckles lightheartedly.

I look down at the grass and the shades of light and darkness that surround us on this beautiful sunny day, and ponder his words.

"Hey, look there. Your friend has a friend," he says.

I stare at the man in a suit that his talking with a man twice his age that was clearly feeding the squirrels in the park.

"There's definitely some shady business going on there," he smirks.

I look at my boyfriend and at that moment I believe I'm in love with the man in front of my eyes. And, that his feelings for me are the undeniable throes of passion. And, even though all odds seem to stack against us, we both keep searching for one another. His words are an echo of his heart, not of reason. And the kisses I share with him, in his arms, is the response of my ticker beating to the sound of our love.

Two weeks flow by in a blink of an eye and I land in the Dusseldorf International Airport on a sunny early evening. As I pass border control, my stomach denounces my nerves. I'm eager to find a taxi. I look up at the signs and try to make sense of some words. Thankfully, beneath there's a translation of each word in English, but soon I knew I could not take comfort in the international signage of the airport, and would need to make do on my own.

I walk out the gates and spot a driver holding a sign with my name. I have a driver? I walk over and announce my presence and the old man promptly takes my bags and carries them for me.

I follow him while he navigates swiftly through the crowds of people in the arrival lounge. We reach the service car, and he gestures for me to enter the car while he places my bags in the booth. I take the time to text my mom and Harry to let them know I had arrived. Mom answers the text immediately with encouraging words. I know I won't get the same immediate response from my significant other.

Dusseldorf is a modern and sleek city, but also feels traditional and homely. There's two sides of the coin to this city and while the riverside is adorned with tall buildings, the old town has a picturesque feel of a small village. The twelve minute drive to the city centre is silent. I quickly discover that my driver speaks limited English, and I'm too embarrassed to attempt any of my scant German after my two failed attempts to engage in some sort of meaningful conversation with the help of the small red book.

The driver drops me outside the hostel, which is on the business side of the city. It's a four-storey white building within walking distance of a large shopping centre. The young man in reception registers my check-in and shows me around the hostel. The hostel has a bar and a breakfast buffet available, a TV lounge, pool table and foosball. Majority of its occupants are roughly mid-twenties, backpackers and world travellers, passing by, along with a couple of students and even small families.

The receptionist leads me to the first floor and shows me to a room that is shared by three other occupants. Hesitantly, I leave my things on top of the empty bed and decide to explore the surroundings.

The city is so unfamiliar. Sights and smells were contrasting to London, even though its surroundings are like the City, with its tall buildings, suits and expensive stores. However, on a Sunday night, the City would be full of ghosts. While in Dusseldorf, bars and restaurants are crowded with people socialising, and the cheers of football fans roaring throughout the streets.

Like a cliche tourist in a foreign town, I eat at a MacDonald's nearby before making my way back to the hostel. When I enter the lobby of the hostel, the same receptionist smiles at me. 

"Why don't you check our pub? It's always packed with other travellers."

I smile and decline politely his offer.

I've always been a person who found it difficult to socialise with others, inherently shy. Engaging with others for me is the most laborious task one can ask me.

Once I get to the room, I lay in my bed and take a deep breath. My phone rings and I pick it up. "Hey, mom."

"Hey, you. How is Germany?" I roll on my belly so I can talk more comfortably. "Okay, I guess."

"Don't tell me you are locked in your room already?"

I frown. The woman knows me too well. "I just came from dinner. Literally just arrived at the room."

"And?" she asks.

I know what she wants and I sigh. "And I'm going downstairs for a drink once I'm done talking to you."

"Don't let me stop you. Go, have a drink, meet people and have fun!" Her cheeriness is sickening but comforting.

I get up, "Okay, I'm going. I'll speak with you tomorrow?"

"I want to hear all about your first day tomorrow. Love you."

"Love you too." I hang up and make my way downstairs. I sit at the bar and order a juice.

"First time in Dusseldorf?" A slim, green-haired girl enquires.

"First time in Germany." And anywhere else.

The girl smiles and raises her beer. "Prost."

I raise my juice glass in response to her gesture, not necessarily her words.

"It means cheers in German," she clarifies.

"Prost," I repeat.

"I'm Emily." She raises her hand and I shake it.

"Natalie," I respond.

"You just arrived today, Natalie?"

I nod in response while taking a sip from the canned apple juice.

"I've been here for two days now. Dusseldorf is nice, but Berlin is much better."

I smile and drink some more, avoiding prolonged eye contact.

"Are you English?" Emily perseveres.

I nod and start playing with my square rubber coaster. "You're Australian?"

"New Zealand," she smiles at my mortified look. "People get us confused all the time. No worries. How long are you staying?"

I hesitate. Could I trust this girl?

"Six months. I'm here for an internship. I'll start tomorrow."

She drinks her beer, gulping it like a pro. I look uneasily at my half drank juice. Why is this self-assured persona talking to the loser that sits at a bar only to drink a juice?

"That's cool. I'm leaving in two days to Cologne, then Frankfurt, and Munich before making my way back to Berlin." She gives me her itinerary as if we're going to keep in touch.

"By yourself?" I stare in amazement at her bravery. I'm only here for six months, in one city, and I'm freaking out.

"I've been making friends with the nice people I meet along the way." She raises her glass once again.

In five minutes of conversation, this girl was already considering me a friend. Either she was an innocent fool, or making me one. Or maybe I should stop being so distrusting. Especially when I'm alone for the first time in a strange land, with a glass of juice for company.

"You're very trusting."

She laughs, "And you are not. That's why I approached you. It's clear that this is the first time you're out in the playground by yourself, huh?"

Her charm disarmed me, and I chuckle.

"Where's work?" Emily redirects the conversation.

I panic at her question. With getting to the hotel and wandering around town, I actually forgot the most important thing I needed to do today. Shit.

"Shit!" I vocalise my thoughts. "I completely forgot to check it out. Got distracted. Oh, shit... oh, shit..." I say and put my hands over my head.

Emily slowly pats me on the back. "Calm down. I've been here for a few days now. I can find my way around. The place is not that big. Show me the address."

I take my phone and unlock it. My screensaver is a picture of me with Harry and a beautiful Loch in the background.

"Boyfriend?" she asks.

I nod.

"He's cute."

I open the email and read out the address. She asks me to paste it on Google maps so she can visualise it. My heart thumps as my brain releases a string of curses at my carelessness. Emily takes the phone in her hands and examines the map.

"You're in luck. I know where this is. It's across the river. You just need to cross the bridge and you'll be there in five minutes."

I nod, unsure what she means by crossing the bridge. She looks at me sideways and gives me an amused look.

"You haven't been on the other side of the river, have you?"

I shake my head.

"What time you need to be there?"

"Nine," I respond.

She drowns the rest of her beer in one gulp. "Meet me here tomorrow at 8.30 and I'll take you there. You can buy me a coffee on the way, okay?"

"Are you sure? I don't want to impose..." I offer my excuses.

"If I didn't want to do it, I wouldn't offer. Besides, I have a feeling we will get along really well."

I'm not sure if everyone in New Zealand is this friendly and trusting, but my heart is warming to the Kiwi.

I smile gratefully. "Thank you. Coffee is definitely on me tomorrow."

"Do you play?" she points at the pool table.

"Not really."

She gets up, "Let's go, time to learn."

And just like that, in the space of twelve hours in an unfamiliar land, I made my first friend.