I’ve always had the urge to travel, to go somewhere far. The urge used to whisper softly in my ears, but now it is screaming. I need to go past thousand of oceans and seas and beyond. I want to inhale new worlds and exhale the worlds I’ve known.
The loathsome city will be left behind. The devilish people will not be remembered. And the nights with the moon shall not find me sorrowful again. The promise of novel souls to meet, different places to see, and soft air to breathe is a breathtaking one. But most importantly, it is a promise of finding oneself again; after the gruesome loss caused by living and interacting with people without passion, compassion, or open-mindedness.
It’s making my heart uneasy, knowing that there are marvelous places I’ve not yet seen, dandy books I’ve not yet read, and amazing people I’ve not yet met. Yet.
A long journey it is going to be; and despite loving solitude, I think about company. Having someone I love with me is a fascinating possibility. Wanderlust supplemented by love is but the ultimate sanctuary.
My story is just unfolding, and I can’t wait for the journey to begin.