I don't really know what to say except that I am coming 'home' tomorrow and quite frankly it's freaking me out. This trip or 'my journey' as I affectionately call it has been so many things to me at once. To start, it has acted as a security blanket shielding me from everything that has gone on stateside. When you're at home, the problems of loved ones affect you for two reasons with the first being that you love them and the latter being proximity. Some of those I love are going through hard times and now when I re-enter the western world, their problems will slowly become mine. I know it sounds wrong and completely selfish to say, but it's true. I have been lucky in that for the past 8 months the only person I really had to worry about was myself. Some things have made it over the oceans, rivers and mountain tops between us, but for the most part, I've been left unscathed by the noble burden of helping others through hard times. I hope that I can relearn how to be as strong for others as I am for myself for that is the true test of moral strength and courage.
The second reason I'm freaked out is that I feel that I have changed more than I could have imagined. The core things are the same in that I still look at the world with the wide wondrous eyes of a 5 year-old but other things have changed. What exactly? I'm not really sure as I'm certain they were gradual but I just feel it and I don't know if it's for the better. 'Home' is the truth teller of what I've become. Whether or not I have 'grown' or simply 'changed' will soon be revealed.
It's funny that my first taste of home was four months ago ... this girl I met in Bali (my romance from the "Baliriffic" post) was wrapping up her 3 month journey abroad and heading home. We exchanged emails when she left and she told me how scared and excited she was about the up and coming adventure. We talked about how home has simply been where we laid our backpacks to rest and how the very essence of familiarity is frightening. Most importantly we talked about how the scariest thing about coming home is the question of whether or not we readjust too much to the civilized word and lose some of the lessons that we've learned about others and more importantly, ourselves. Luckily, I recently talked with her and she informed me that she not only conquered but owned the challenges that one faces when 'coming home'. There's hope for me yet.
To summarize what this trip has been for me I will say this, that it has been one of excess in all regards and more than anything I could have imagined it could be. I want to thank all of you who were a part of it.
To my fellow travelers: You rock ... whether it be riding dirty and living on the cheap or tubing down the chocolate river, you all taught me a little something more about stepping up and owning life. The experiences I have shared with you are simply priceless.
To my friends at home: Thank you for you helping build me into a man who would follow his dream. I've been a prick, continually forget to buy presents, yell and argue with all of you and yet, you hold on strong. I have even tried to systematically ruin some of our friendships and still, you held. Much love.
To my family: I love you and if you could see the water in my eyes you would understand everything else I would love to say because sadly I know not the words to accurately convey the affection I have for you. Your support through all of this is one of the reasons I'll be coming home smiling wide. I am proud to be your son, your brother and your friend. Gorbanat Beram.
So this is it ... this chapter is over. All that's left is to flip the page and see how the rest of 'my story' unfolds.
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