"So why travel alone?" He asked me. He had one hand curled around the strap of his backpack and the other around the railing, steadying himself as the airport monorail t pulled us toward our final destinations. The bags at our feet held everything. Mine carried the extra weight of returning, of coming home after two months abroad.
"Why not?" I answered. I shrugged my aching shoulders and smiled with cracked lips, dry from the long flight. "But really, why?" "It was something I had to do. You have to be able to do something on your own, find out who you are apart from everything before you can really know who you are with another person." We laughed about how that answer had sounded rehearsed, but it wasn't. Many people had asked me the same question and I'd provided different versions of the same thing, but in the end I had finally figured it out. Comments are closed.
|
Alyssa ShainaWriter, reader, believer. Archives
September 2016
Categories
All
|