Travel will teach you how to let go of people. Otherwise you’d never be able to keep doing it. You go somewhere, make new friends, and right when you’re finally getting comfortable with the whole thing… You leave. And you do it again. Loves come and go, and the friends you think will stay in touch forever disappear after a couple weeks. And the friends you think you’ll never hear from again stay in touch for years.
It’s a strange game. It’s impossible to know who will stick around, so we learn to let go.
It’s almost a spiritual concept. Let go of your worldly attachments. Live in the moment. No past, no future, all that exists is the moment we’re in.
Or something like that, anyway.
It’s tougher than that. We get IMs from the past every day. We send our own messages to those we’d like to see in the future. We focus so intently on what could be and on what once was that we lose sight of where we actually are.
We’re home, and we want to be away. We’re away, and we want to be home. We’re hooking up, and we want a relationship. We’re in a relationship, and we want to hook up. We want the opposite of whatever we have, and if only we had it we could finally be happy.
It’s fucking ridiculous.
I wish I could say I had mastered letting go, and that I could move on from every adventure without any baggage. But I fucking can’t. There are too many girls left behind. Too many friends who say, “we’ll meet again someday”, when there’s no fucking chance.
That’s just the life I’ve chosen. And I have to accept that I can’t control who will be in my life, down the road. I just have to live the best way I know how, and maybe along the way I’ll figure out how to let go of the past. And the future. Every person I disappoint, every heart I break, leaves something behind in me.
I can’t keep doing this forever.
But sometimes it feels like no matter how hard I try to move in one direction, I keep going down the same road. Because deep down, I’m a lying, cheating, womanizing son of a bitch. I have no self-control. All I want is to use and abuse and to take advantage of anyone foolish enough to let me get close.
Even when I tell them that at the start, they won’t believe it until it’s too late. They’re in it deep. We’ve gone too far to back out now. And so we play out the same old scene over again, until finally she’s had enough and I disappear. Maybe I’ll reach out in six months when I’m lonely and horny and I’m thinking about visiting her city again.
It’s a coin flip. Does she hate me for leaving her, or does she hate herself for letting me go? Maybe both. Maybe I’m just a raging fucking narcissist and every girl I ever fucked over hates my guts now. But I can’t believe that. I mean, yes, I’m a narcissist, but I have to believe that some of these people think about me with a little glint in their eyes. Because that’s the way I think of them, sometimes.
Maybe they’re lucky enough to be able to let it go.
But I don’t think so.
All we need is a little more ______ and a little trip to __________ and then we can get past this once and for all.