“The opposite of love’s indifference.”
I hadn’t meant for our conversation to end on the note it did tonight, but honestly you kinda really pissed me off. And the more I think about it, the angrier I feel. I suppose this is the release of a year of pent up resentment towards your being so frequently awful to me and my so infrequently mentioning it because you’re sick. You really think the appropriate response to someone pouring out their heart to you is “thank you for the correspondence?” Yeah, I get it you were “really tired” at 9pm, the arbitrary time you decided to reply, ten hours after having received my email and I so appreciate your letting me know that the message has been received with your two sentence reply. That was some seriously “affirming” shit right there. Your sister’s right, you are one condescending motherfucker.
One of the more awful places to be unhappy is beautiful islands in the sun. It is just so much harder to justify. In addition to whatever circumstances may be causing this bout of gloom, there is the guilt associated with not fully enjoying one’s surroundings (and everyone around you seems to be thrilled with their present existence!).
Loneliness is one of the hardest things to admit to. There’s such a stigma attached to needing people and struggling to make besties everywhere you go. The meaningful connections I’ve made on this trip have been few and far between. I would be rather be alone reading than engaging in the same played- out backpacker conversations (Where are you from? How long have you been here? What do you do back home?).
I had hoped to re-create my last summer in Europe, but now realize the concept was flawed from the get-go. I am older, the circumstances are different (no Colombian lover to hold my hand as we jumped between Balkan nations), and it is time to establish a new adventure model. Perhaps it is also time to find a longterm adventure partner.
I’m counting down the days until my return to the states. Three more until I can hide away in a room of my own and not be expected to be having the time of my life. I can’t wait.
“…No, it is impossible; it is impossible to convey the life-sensation of any given epoch of one’s existence, -that which makes its truth, its meaning-its subtle and penetrating essence. It is impossible. We live, as we dream-alone…”
– Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness
I am gonna make it through this year if it kills me.