To be loved, or to be free
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If you gave me the key to a time machine, I’d travel to the past to backhand slap myself in the mouth after each one of my mistakes. There’s this running joke between me, myself, and I; we say our past can be divided into two parts: the part we regret and the part we forgot.
Please, don’t worry about my self-loathing. It’s cathartic for me, and besides, I love myself. In fact, a few people will attest that I love nothing else but myself.
And after the self-loathing, even I can recognize that there are many things to be grateful for in the messy middles of the many phases of our lives. Freedom is always a good one. I had some time on my hands this summer, time to “waste,” so to speak. And so you’ll find me on the road somewhere in the Balkans, at least for a while. Just because.
I admit that there are pros and cons to long-term solo travel. There are only pros when you start traveling, and they all turn into cons if you just travel long enough. It’s all the same as staying put and building yourself a family, in a way. The initial euphoria inevitably fades, and all you’re left with are crippling loneliness and logistical headaches.
“They say everyone has a choice to make: to be loved, or to be free.”
— Conor Oberst
The worst kind of loneliness is being misunderstood. You run no risk of it happening if you don't mingle with other apes. If that doesn't concern you, the other kinds of loneliness, including family, it's never been as easy to dodge them than it is today.
Every place has its online expat group, for example. I should have remembered that before deleting all my Meta accounts. I only have WhatsApp now. In fact, I did intercept one such WhatsApp group in Skopje a few weeks ago and got to meet some new faces over drinks one evening.
At a certain point, the age question came up, and we realized that among the four people there, at 36, I was the oldest. This was a first for me, or the first I noticed. The others were 32, 29, and 21(!). My gray hair was mentioned. The youngest, M, said, “You actually look older!” Then tried to soften the blow by remarking that it’s mainly because of how I act. Perhaps I was mildly offended by it, or perhaps I was mildly flattered. Maybe I would’ve been, if I cared about her fucking opinion.
It’s very true, as you get older, you find young people increasingly obnoxious, and how gross to have been one of them! They should know that, just like them, It doesn't matter how old you get, you always feel like you have your entire life ahead of you. Technically, because you do. Another thing to be grateful for.
For the record, M is a lovely young woman. If there's anything obnoxious about her, it's her smarts and looks. And the fact she laughs very loudly, which she does freely and often. And if I was mean to her in this piece, it was just for the entertainment value. And envy.
The road makes me inspired, so I'll probably be in touch with you again soon.
I hope life’s treating you well.
Bye for now.