We embraced for the final time, my head resting on her tense shoulder. My eyes pricked as she promised, “We’ll see each other again, on one side of the pond or the other!”
Farewells have become a regular part of life. Friends come and go in the blink of an eye. Some goodbyes are harder than others. Many you just become immune to.
The first goodbye was the hardest. Leaving family, unsure of when I would be seeing them again. Then comes the next, my best friend leaving our newly discovered world, back to the UK as her heart pulled her home. Then another, and another.
Soon it will be my goodbye, once again.
It’s a strange feeling, this passing from relationship to relationship, place to place. One we welcome, living the life we do. You fall deeply in an instant: with people, with cities, with experiences.
It’s beautiful and yet it’s terrifying. It hurts but, at the same time, it fills you with a thrilling curiosity.
What next? Who next?
A see-saw of emotions, as always. Travelling does that to you.
No anchor. Free to float.
But where is my anchor? Does it even exist?
Which path will finally take me “home”?
I think, maybe, that’s what I’m trying to discover.