Each day begins to drag more than the last, the excitement
of leaving our little world to travel has now turned into frustration. The
naivety of disappearing and escaping responsibility is slowly being enveloped
by doubtful what ifs and what after questions.
Leave me alone conscience, you know that life has been grey and unfulfilling for a long time.
So that haunting question rears its ugly head, what is
going to happen when you attempt real life again?
The realisation of our return
is already impending onto our future journey and we haven’t even left yet
But this is the price you pay when planning to travel and leave
everything other than your better half behind.
So with 59 days till departure, I go to work each day,
feeling resentment for loosing yet more precious time to a stuffy office with
nothing but a desire to suck the life out of me.
Our approaching escape is almost in sight, yet the uncertainty
of what it means scares the life out of me, I have wanted nothing more than to
travel since I was 10 years old, watching my father leave for adventures to every
corner of the world on business, how exciting it all seemed.
Venturing across Europe in a campervan may differ hugely to
visiting China on a business trip, but it still feeds my soul, makes me know
that I can do what I want to be happy and follow my dreams.
If I could just visit a new place for every time that someone
has told me that part of life is to hate your job and accept it then maybe I
will have travelled enough to satisfy this hunger.
Regardless of the worry in my mind, I know that leaving the
country that’s opportunities and economy has failed me, is the right thing to
do.
People say that if you don’t do it now you never will, but I
want to do it now and forever if all that life has to offer is a meaningless
job, minimal stolen moments of doing what you truly want and waiting for retirement.
