imagine an airplane flight, 8 hours long. everything you know, everything you've ever known, is somewhere else. youre going somewhere that youve never seen before, where they dont even speak your language, and you dont know how long youll be there for, how long until you can visit, or even if you ever will. you basically spend the 8 hours with that feeling in your heart - you go through denial, like the belief that if i dont like it, i can go home - but you cant go home, and then before you know it youre in a weird place surrounded by a completely different culture with no friends.
i'd say its ok, that i'm going to visit paris again. but i'll never see this apartment again, i'll never feel the securities of the life ive established for myself here again. where i'm going is an alternate paradigm, with a completely different life, completely different options, completely different opportunities, completely different people.
but then i get the other thoughts. i was told, on leaving bangladesh, that i'd visit soon. to date i have never been back.
and what really scares me - i'm going to kenya without my brother. i have to establish a life for myself again, as i have done so many times before, redefine who i can trust and who i can't. but this time i dont have any old friends there who can really give me advice on anything. people really underestimate the role of siblings.
and is it normal to be afraid of settling down? be afraid of staying in one place too long because of the impending, inevitable fear of one day having to leave? leaving is something that only gets harder. every day, every hour, every minute in a place is that much longer of memories that will be left behind. quite possibly forever. is it normal to grow so attached to photo albums? to distract yourself with other things but then to write them off as insignificant? to live every day with the knowledge that all the blocks you lay to having a good life will get crushed into sawdust while you look on? and when you feel that rush that means takeoff, does this affect everybody the way it affects me, does it hold the same significance, the feeling of leaving everything, the reminder that someday it may be the last time you ever take off from a certain airport?
why do i always get attached to airports?
perhaps people who travel are the people who live somewhere up in the air, and thats why airports are so significant. there must be something making it matter. a life in which social connections are broken down regularly, either by your own departure or by someone else's, can't be based on social connections. a life in which after school activities become unavailable within the blink of an eye, can't be based on after school activities. a life in which all your efforts to suck up have to be renewed every year, can't make it feel like it's worth it to suck up. a life in which your hopes and dreams change with all the different perspectives you acquire through the places you see and the people you meet, can't be based on founded hopes and dreams. and a life in which planning ahead can be interrupted by a knock on your door from the movers will destroy any incentive to plan ahead. before you know it, you stand blindfolded in a huge airport with a suitcase full of memories - only bringing what you could pack - and your last attempt is to stumble onto the next airplane going nowhere.
even if you only stay at a short stopover.
i love you, my sweet stopover, paris... please buy me a bigger suitcase.
i was just wondering if anyone related to any of the stuff i said there.
my name's sadie, i'm 16, i live in paris and am soon to move to nairobi... and before paris i lived in the suburbs of DC, and dhaka bangladesh. so thats just a bit of background info for you :)