The Last Time

You don’t like it when I use the word crazy, but that’s mostly how I feel.

Not lobotomy crazy (which I think is the connotation you object to), but the arguably worse kind—irrational, emotional, crazy-girl crazy.

At best, I am accidentally sending mixed signals. I have trouble with change, remember? And everything happened so fast. I didn’t say the right things, or ask the right questions, and now I feel lost. I am hurt, and while I am trying, I can’t seem to get my head and my heart onto the same page. When did you become someone I am afraid to talk to?

At worst, I am an uncontrollable mess. You treat me gently, kind of like I have some sort of communicable disease, or like I am an especially needy child—and after everything we’ve been through, this is the worst part.


Yesterday, I read an opinion piece denouncing travel. Which, for about 3 hours, made me question everything. And then I got past it, only to have the piece pointed out to me again today by one of my closest friends.

“There’s a big difference between wanting a change in scenery and some new experiences vs. needing to run away from a prison of your own making.”

I agree with this, the excerpt so lovingly picked out for me by said closest friend, but I also disagree with the overarching view of the author that “There is nothing inherently valuable in travel.”

No doubt, I was in a much more stable mental state when I first made my travel decision. (Though perhaps you could argue that no truly mentally stable person would ever make this sort of decision in the first place.) But does that mean that adding in this heartache, this sadness, this crazy makes my trip less acceptable now?

I am running, if that’s what you want to call it. But I don’t necessarily think that making an active choice to take a break from a place with few opportunities left for professional and personal growth should be put in that category.

I think this year will be valuable beyond measure. And one can always come back.


For another $110, she tells me that I will outgrow you, that this trip will change me, and that you will fade. And it is up to me, really, to determine exactly what you—what we—will fade into.

And as much as I don’t really want that right now, at $110, I kind of hope she is right.


4 thoughts on “The Last Time

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