It’s here again. The excitement. The planning and packing. The important arrangements to make. The Internet searching for what to do. The anticipation. A new trip to a new destination. I can’t help but feel like these are the most exciting times in my life. What will happen when I get there? What will I eat and do? What will I see through my camera? Who will I meet? I need these trips to really thrive. For me, every trip is a new way to see the world and to experience something different and become different. I don’t want to go to Mexico and eat at an Italian restaurant at the resort. I want to eat roasted pig with mole sauce where the locals eat. I want to immerse myself, to wander the streets of the city without purpose. To find myself under the Eiffel Tower, surrounded by hundreds of people singing “Amazing Grace” in French and feel the vibration of their voices rushing through my body. To know that Sam knows how moved I am. I want to drive along the South African coast and stay in a little town called Hermanus. To watch whales riding the waves in the harbor as I eat breakfast. To reach across the table and squeeze his hand. He knows.
To me, staying isn’t what makes something stronger. It’s leaving that makes all the difference.