Of Comings and Goings

Saturday, September 30, 2017

celineism

There's a thrill in arriving. An anticipation sweet in being realized. But leaving... well, it's a different story.

To a wandering soul, every place, essentially, is liminal. Every destination but a pitstop. "The journey is home," we say. But every now and then, packing our bags comes with a twinge of sadness. A feeling almost akin to reluctance, like maybe we really don't want to go someplace else. Maybe it's the fact that every place we go demands a bit of ourselves as some sort of payment and we don't realize we're paying it until it's time to leave. Then, we're not just quite the same as we'd arrived. There is a spring in our steps and a ring in our laughs. Even our inflections change ever so slightly.

Traveling has always been bittersweet, and we never really leave a place – we just carry it all wherever we go.

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