Departures, they’ll never get easy.
(You weren’t expecting me to sugar coat it were you?)
The truth is you’ll wake up with a pit in your stomach that can only be limbo; the balancing act that keeps your heart in two places at once. Your loved ones will be planning their days - haircuts, lunches, picking the kids up from school - and you’ll be 32,000 feet in the air, getting back to the “reality” that awaits you. You’ll look down at the shirt you put on that morning in one hemisphere and that lump in your throat will rise knowing that there everything is as you left it. You’ll be reminded how alone you are as you go through customs, as you catch a glimpse of a family on a trip somewhere warm, cozying up to one another in their economy seats.
But then you arrive. You walk through those double doors, frayed passport in hand, and see the smiling face picking you up. You’ll embrace and it will feel like you never left wherever it was you were coming from, or wherever it was you were traveling to. That limbo will settle and your feet will be firmly planted on the ground where they’re supposed to be in that moment.
And then you’ll realize that maybe, just maybe, one day these departures will get easier. Because the arrival will feel that much more like coming home.