Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Every beginning has an end

Every beginning has an end, every heart has a pulse, every spirit has a flame, have you ever felt it?

Tears are a liquid that rarely ooze from my glands. The warm balls pooling up gathering in volume at the bridge of my nose, like a riot mustering its strength to unleash, the tears break away accelerating down my cheeks and dissipate into my ginger beard, a sign that you’re no longer able to control your emotions, a body’s way of relieving the mind of its misery. It’s like my first love all over again, I’ve given more than what I have, invested my every fiber into the people, the places, the life of this island. A lustful frenzy at first sight, this place did things to me. My flight is booked and my departure is inevitable. Every beginning has an end, and my end is near. God I hate this part of being a backpacker, building up a life to abandon it at its peak, forfeiting on relationships that are just about to blossom. I look around and I see a part of myself written on a chalk board, on a shelf in the supermarket, in the sand at the beach, in a clearing along a forest path. I’m spread out far and wide not as an object but as a memory. Memories eventually fade but like the smell of your grandmothers cooking well beyond her years of death, some memories last forever. My imprint here has been much larger than my boot.
As the legend of the phoenix goes; with death brings life. That’s the only thought loosely bonding my composure together as I strap my tent to the bottom of my backpack imagining the array of forest canopies we will be sleeping under in the next few months. Come on son, pick yourself up and stop dragging those heels, it’s time to get back on those feet and walk away from a place with your pride and dignity. Easier said than done I tell myself but that only last a second before I realize what a little bitch I’m being. In the past three months I’ve hurdled so many barriers and crossed many more lines I had wished never to have even contemplated. No serious harm done, I’m none the smarter but plenty wiser. I’ve done my deeds and crossed that bridge, did my damage and cleaned the mess. It’s been a hell of a ride but my clock is ticking, it’s time to spread these wings and do what a backpacker does best and disappear.

Farewell beautiful island, I’ve enjoyed crawling into your core and exploring what I never expected to find…


No comments:

Post a Comment