One year and fifty weeks ago I was in the same place. Sitting in a plane preparing to leave US soil for an unknown amount of time. The last few days I have bounced between feeling scared, sad, excited, and mad. I don’t know what to expect on my own, I’m terribly sad to say goodbye to friends yet again, I’m thrilled to be chasing a dream, and I’m mad because I’m on this roller coaster of tears when I should be excited beyond belief. This just once again reminds me that nothing comes without a price.
I’ve spent the last 5 days running around trying to prepare to leave. For those of you who pack the night before a trip, you probably think that 5 days of prep and packing is absurd. Well, then you’ve never been on a long term trip. Just try to imagine trip prep for a journey duration of one to two years. I am not simply talking about packing a suitcase; I’m talking about administrative stuff such as taxes, voting, insurance, banking, medical files, phone numbers, and getting all of the items that I won’t have access to in developing countries that I may need/want. To top is off, imagine doing all of this when you don’t really have access to your stuff or your home (mine is all in storage). I felt like a raving bitch most days, but I was perplexed when my friends kept telling me how amazed they were that I was so calm and in control. I was completely paranoid when they told me this as if it were their way of making fun of me. I was positive I was the embodiment of Cybil this last week no matter what they said to me.
I find it disturbing that tears are in my eyes now as I depart the skyline of NYC fading into the distance and trying to squeak in one last cell phone call with friends before retiring my US phone number yet again. It’s disturbing because 8 months ago I was in tears when I was flying back to the US after being gone for 16 months. I was scared to come back to NYC, sad that my journey had ended, intimidated to see my friends again after I had been so self sufficient for so long. I don’t consider myself an emotional person, but if I’m crying leaving and crying coming back; maybe I just need to come to grips with the fact that I am an emotional mess. No wonder why I’m single…this is everything men hate about women…crying, for no good reason.