There in the doorway, stands me. Waiting patiently for her body to come back to her so I can go and live a real life again.
What makes a person happy? Money? Good Food? Feeling Confident? Being self-sufficient? Love? Family? Friends? Comfort? Exercise? Exploration? Following your dreams?....running away from fears? facing fears?
Somehow, everyday people adapt to a life they haven't chosen. Perhaps a life that doesn't make them happy. And everyday people chose a life that doesn't make them happy. Why would they do it?
The only logical reason I can think of is love. Millions of people choose to put their love for their family, their friends, and their significant others above the other areas of happiness. Is love a trap?
Love is not guaranteed. You can put all of you into loving someone and it can still fall apart. I have watched countless friends make life decisions based on love, and many of them have gotten the short end of the stick.
I know what makes me happy, and I know what I want for my life. I know who I am and who I want to be.
I want to explore a new culture, and continue to build a new, different life everywhere I go. I want to live on pocket change, and find things that make all the shitty parts of living in the 3rd world worth it. I want to make friends with the locals. I want to see people for who they are. I want to be outside, far away from human life, so I can see the stars and hear my own heart beat. I want to travel deep within my heart and find out what makes it beat.
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I have choices. I can be a selfish individual and have all these things that make me happy. I don't have to feel like I'm losing everything I love about living abroad and gaining all the things I hated about living in America. I can go wherever I want to go, and be whoever I want to be.
But it does not feel that way. I don't want any of those things if it means I can't have my love. And that right there is the scariest things I have ever tried to tell and convince myself of. So here I sit. Looking at jobs I may not want, apartments I cannot afford, and planning trips I do not want to take. Love is absolutely blinding, improbable, spectacular voyage. And I have never been so afraid to climb aboard.
I want to explore a new culture, and continue to build a new, different life everywhere I go. I want to live on pocket change, and find things that make all the shitty parts of living in the 3rd world worth it. I want to make friends with the locals. I want to see people for who they are. I want to be outside, far away from human life, so I can see the stars and hear my own heart beat. I want to travel deep within my heart and find out what makes it beat.
I have choices. I can be a selfish individual and have all these things that make me happy. I don't have to feel like I'm losing everything I love about living abroad and gaining all the things I hated about living in America. I can go wherever I want to go, and be whoever I want to be.
But it does not feel that way. I don't want any of those things if it means I can't have my love. And that right there is the scariest things I have ever tried to tell and convince myself of. So here I sit. Looking at jobs I may not want, apartments I cannot afford, and planning trips I do not want to take. Love is absolutely blinding, improbable, spectacular voyage. And I have never been so afraid to climb aboard.
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