8 julio 2008
I am unable to express exactly how it feels to peel my eyes away from my last glance at the city, already too far away to see, that has been my home for the past six months. It is impossible to feel happy because of the wonderful people that I could not fit in my suitcases and thus had to leave behind. No, it is decidedly not happiness that I feel, but neither is it sadness. How can I be sad when so much adventure lays before me? Maybe I am just numb and simply cannot feel at all. The fact is that everywhere I travel I leave a little bit of me behind that will live there forever making it so I can always return to visit because, in fact, a part of me never left in the first place. It will admittedly be some time before I make it back I think, but I feel confident that I will come back and see how things have changed.
A wise man always reminds me that all good things come to an end. I’m not sure exactly why they always end because to say they end does not necessarily mean that all good things turn bad. I think that all good things come to an end so that they can begin again, thereby providing the excitement that comes from returning to familiar places and faces.
So these are my thoughts as I turn my nose in a new direction and fly over fields and snowy peaks on which I have not yet set foot but might someday. I feel nothing and everything at the same time as I end and begin all at once.
To the people I have just left: Thank you. I love you. Hasta luego–we will see each other again soon.
To those toward whom I travel: You may not yet be aware of it, but I will be very pleased to meet you
To my old friends that I will finally see again: I can’t wait!
The clouds out the window look like rows of strawberry plants and the ground looks so small. There is a lot to tell of the past week but it will have to wait until my next flight. There will be time enough to write between continents.
[Posted five days later]