We’re on the plane, in the hazy din of air travel, very little in this world is more than a blur. We’re somewhere in that phase between the hubbub of excitement our lives have been and the mental vacuum that is leaving life somewhat behind. It’s beginning to tip over the edge but the question has been nagging…. when does the holiday start.
For now our bodies are in a tube somewhere above the US and not far from touching down in Mexico City. Our thoughts however are still prying free from the journey that has been saying farewell. Be it rugby triumph, last day at work, the drunken farewell party, family gathering, packing up a house or a Sunday family brekky, the ride was fast and wild.
To be expected was the hugs, the well wishes and the kind words. less expected was the emotional punch behind the guise of the familiar. The love we’ve felt, held within those who we are close with, has been an irresistible force. Kept still in daily propriety the sudden rush, to us and from, has been a beast of a feast and we ate hungrily.
Who knew feeling love was so exhausting?
So now we’re on this trip of a lifetime, leaving behind a lifetime after having the time of our lives. It’s testament to the people we’ve left behind that despite the excitement of the future, we’re eddied in the recent past, Not yet able to begin.
So the love we have taken with us, it’s the people we’ve temporarily left behind. That love will see the world rest assured, it’ll go with us all the way. When we return we’ll share it back, love that makes the trip will settle in its place again.