the life we want and the life we lead


i’ve never wanted to be a tourist. it’s never been about the stamp in my passport or the photos i post on facebook. as fun as it is, there is short-lived joy in only spending a few weeks in a new place. to me, it ends up being entirely unfulfilling.

what i’ve wanted is to live in various countries for years at a time. i want to be a drifter that stays afloat before eventually returning to the road. i want to be in a place long enough to grasp a fair amount of the language, to go through the annual events (at least two maybe even three times), i desire to be a part of a circle–i want to be there long enough to have a collection of inside jokes, i want to know short cuts, bus routes, and back roads.

i dream of unpacking and making each house or apartment into my temporary home. i imagine there would be bits of each place i’ve been to that would add to the growing collection of international decor.  i’d want memories of each bedroom and living space, and over time, i’m sure i’d forget the exact shade of paint in the kitchen, but that would all be a part of the experience.  and most of all, i assume there would be lives that would intersect with mine. strangers who would turn into friends, people who’d take a piece of me and leave a bit of them behind to add to my suitcase heart.

before i take off on my life of multicultural cross border living, i’d want there to be a man by my side who is just as restless as i. i’d have to have a man who doesn’t want 3-week vacations but who also dreams of long term destinations. there are so many places we could land but we wouldn’t be surface explorers. we’d make a life where we go, we’d share the adventure, we’d share the journey. we’d have different sides to the same experiences, we’d both have to talk to tell the same story. more than a building or a flat, we’d be each other’s safey, each other’s stability. no matter the country we’d sleep each night wrapped in each others arm knowing that we traveled but home would be the head next to ours on the pillow.

and then, and then, there would always be places to go back to. there would always be friends to go visit and see. there would be a reason for loved ones to travel and come see our lives wherever we be.

if i could ever meet such a man, if i could find the means to live from city to city, i think i could quell my restless self. i think i could be happy.

i dream. i dream. i dream.

 

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1 comment
  1. kreeti said:

    Every time I read your words, it seems like you’re speaking my mind. I wish I could write like you do!

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