Airports are interesting places. A spectrum of emotions all encompassed in one location. Excitement. Fear. Joy. Sadness. Anticipation.
Anxiety. Never knowing
exactly what you are going to think or feel when you’re there or what exactly
your destination holds.
I have been to the airport many times this past year, in
many different places. Sometimes
merely dropping off, sometimes going, sometimes coming back.
My times of going have been times of trepidation of the
unknown, the ache of leaving behind people I love, jubilation knowing in some
ways my destination would make my heart that much more complete, excitement to
see family, nervousness at the prospect of making new acquaintances and wanting
to be loved and accepted.
My times of returning have been times of leaving behind
people and places that would always be dear to my heart, leaving behind things
that would never be dear to me again, grief knowing that as I flew away I was
leaving my heart behind, peace and comfort knowing that I would be reunited
with people I love, uncertainty over when I would return, blessing because of all
I have had the opportunity to love.
The older I get [granted I'm only 21], the more I experience, and the more places
I go, the more and more my heart grows and the more it loses little pieces as
bits of it stay behind, waiting for my return. But once the ache of what has come and gone passes, what is left
is the knowledge that my heart is more complete because of these places, because
of these people, because of these aches.
In French, the word “la bougeotte” translate to “wanderlust” and in German, the word is
“fernweh” which translates to “an ache for the distance.”
I will always find myself caught in the tension that I see
fully encapsulated [word choice?] in airports – this desire and yearning to go and live and
experience coupled with the hurt of what is being left behind.
I drove away from the airport today and looked out across a
crazy beautiful view of LA. While
LA will always be my home, as I go far and wide across this world, searching
the distance for places that will inevitably steal bits of my heart, a piece of
me will find its home in every new place I go.
But that ache, that ache is good. It reminds me that I'm real, that I love and miss and
experience joy and hurt. It
reminds me that I have been blessed with homes that span the globe, each
waiting for my return one day.
So bring on the ache.
