My fantasies are centered around moving. This probably has a lot to do with my personality. I'm generally a restrained person: I don't drink or fight or gamble. I've never been enamored with any of those things. But the lure of travel, of change, is deeply ingrained in me. Ironically, I think I owe most of it to Jaime. At least, she's the one who guided my expression of freedom towards travel. In the long run, I can see that it is one of many things J has done to make our relationship work. She isn't aware of it, I'm sure. But the other vices I could have found to express myself would surely have made tons of trouble for us as a couple.
Then again, it is J. Maybe she is aware of it. I was staring at one of my favorite sights today, a map of a huge trip across the country. I was listening to a song, "Willy the Wandering Gypsy and Me," which includes the awesome line "moving's the closest thing to being free." Waylon Jennings didn't write them, but boy, could he find some amazing lines. ("Don't mind me just keep on talking, I'm just looking for my hat" is one I pray I'll use someday.)
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It's a strange conundrum now. I'm happier than I've ever been. My kids are at a great age, I'm enjoying my life, I don't have that much work drive me nuts, but enough to keep me busy. I really try not to live in either the past or the future, though I'm not as successful as I wish to be. I do have one tendril of thought in a trip for the future. I'm hoping that naming it will exorcise it, in part. Though I know that a huge two or three month trip is the only way to really give me solace for a few years. Knowing that the opportunity is at least a few years away both helps and hurts. It gives me time to think.
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