Remnants of a Broken Traveler’s Heart

Moving back home from Paris was something I’d been so excited about for a while.. Seeing my family, hanging out with friends, late night Taco Bell. I was so ready to have my own place, to catch up with everyone and to begin a new chapter in my life – even though I had no idea at the time what that next chapter would be.

Now that I’ve been back for a month, all of that has happened and I’ve been left with a giant hole in my heart that keeps getting bigger. For the first few weeks I was just so overjoyed with being back that I didn’t have time to think about how much Paris had actually become a part of me. But now that the initial excitement of all of it has passed, I’m a bit lost. My heart has become a crippled remnant of what it was before and I’m just now realizing it.

I knew it’d be hard, of course but never thought that I could be overcome by such strong emotion in such quick succession. Paris was my home and leaving it has now become one of the hardest things I’ve done. I know I’ll go back one day but it’s still so difficult to think about no longer being there. When you love something so beautiful, it’s hard to let go. So, I guess that’s what I’m going through.

I’m a wanderer at heart and that will never change, so though my heart is broken, I’m focusing as much of my attention on my next adventure as I can. The world is full of adventure and I’m just trying to find it. 


Change is a wonderful part of life

A lot of things have been filling my thoughts recently. Namely, what I’ll be doing after leaving Paris. And ya know what? I’ve discovered something about myself that I never quite recognized before.. That I wasn’t made for the typical 9-5 working American life.

I guess I’ve always known I didn’t want that but it took five months of living in Paris to come to this clear realization.

My time here has helped me find myself even more than I ever expected and realizing I wasn’t made for that life should be scary. But to me it’s not. Not at all.

I used to think that I had to follow everyone else and get a “real” job and follow suit to the business-y 9-5ers. I used to think that was the only way to be successful. Get a job I like, work all day every day, make lots of money and eventually retire comfortably. But I don’t want that. And only now do I know that’s okay and that I’ll be fine with whatever life I end up in.

You see, I want to do things my way. I’ve always known I was the adventurous creative type but always thought that characteristic was for my “free time.” You know, I’d live a normal life and have “fun” in my spare time. It’s taken Paris for me to realize I can make a living however I want.

I want to travel.

I want to write.

I want to know the world.

In college, I had a professor that I was always envious of. He was a professor, yes, but he had seen the world. He lived in France for ten years. He backpacked through Europe many times. He knew people from all over the world. I remember sitting in class one day after he’d told a story about his most recent trip (I believe it was to Corsica?) and how he’d met so many people to travel with and just spent his whole summer camping out and exploring. I became so incredibly jealous thinking I’d never have those kinds of opportunities. But here I am, doing the exact same thing – spending my life exploring and becoming immersed in the world. That was about two years ago and I’ve finally come to realize I can have whatever kind of life I want.

And the life I choose is that of a travel writer. Or a novelist. Or a volunteer. Or whatever else I want. After my time in Paris, I don’t plan to begin a life of normality, I plan to seek out my next adventure in the world – whatever it may be.

My life isn’t about the money I make and the security I have in those finances, my life is about exploring the world God created and getting lost in whatever comes my way.