It works more like painkillers. And sometimes it doesn’t work the way I would like it to.
But as my heart breaks many times over, the sight of a foreign land, the buzz of foreign language I barely understand, and the odd pace I have to keep up with in order to survive – they take away the pain.
In the midst of all the voices going around, all the happenings, I focus on me.
On finding me.
Because in a place so different from home, there’s only one person I can fully rely on while traveling: me.
And obviously the friend I go with.
But it’s not the finding myself so intensely that I write songs about type of deal, but more of a constant self seeking.
I have to find my voice, one I recognize more than anyone else’s, and hold onto it.
And it’s quick pace, like flashes of moments which force one to get a good hold of her or his mind.
Then these flying moments, along with the quick decision making, numb the throbbing heart.
For what seems to be an eternity, I could forget how badly I’ve been hurting.
And it’s a wonderful realization.
That the pain can indeed go away. Even if it’s just for a second.
So I come back with thirst for more. More of the painkillers that I have tried and grown amazed of.
I want more of that. Of finding my own voice. Hearing my own needs.
Putting myself first.
My safety. My comfort.
I know it’s not a permanent escape. Pain doesn’t go away the way we want to. Traveling doesn’t heal. It just numbs me for a little while.
But it gives me the sweetest time in this dark age.
Life goes on. Life will return and routine as well.
However, a good break doesn’t hurt anyone.
Then I probably will pack my bag and fly to a different place, a beautiful strange love affair with a different country.
And just like that, the pain slips away.