There’s an emotional toll that each new city tends to take on me. The exhilaration of exploring new neighborhoods, building deep relationships & making cherished memories comes at the cost of eventually parting ways with the version of myself who decided to stay.
I’m filled with a sense of nostalgia for this parallel existence: is he happier than me? Did he make the world a better place? Did love find him when he stopped looking? Or does he too yearn for the unknown, now tangled in the roots he laid down here? This branching of destinies forces me to confront the tragic reality of wanting to live 1,000 lifetimes – but only being allowed this particular one.Despite this self-perpetuating cycle of longing, we can’t be prisoners to our choices. As long as we dare to see them through, we create a continuous, ever-evolving narrative that is part of a greater, ongoing story.
Written in a cafe during a particularly lonesome walk. Location forgotten.
I take solace in knowing that I carry tiny pebbles of these paths untraveled, and leave a part of myself with the people I meet along the way; in the hopes that they keep the doors we opened slightly ajar, because our story might just be beginning.
Who You Leave Behind.
The hard-hitting consequences of constant travel.
