No faz mal

I stood on his back porch in almost nothing due to the restrictive heat of the house. The wind came from beyond the overgrown saplings and brought with it a release from the sticky humidity, washing me with memories from the summer. The wind pulled at me, awakening my heart, and tugging on my desire to leave.

It's hard to explain. I can call it my gypsy soul, this need to get away, but there's more than that. Life is hard. Life is complicated. Life here is different. I'm going to reclaim pieces of my heart so the healing process can begin. Or at least revisit who I was and where I have been. Some might call it running away from the issues at hand, but I'm leaving a little deposit of my heart here to reclaim later.

The best way to describe it is as a marathoner's desire to have a gravel road and a pair of running shoes, a breakthrough discovery to a scientist, the perfect word to a writer, a combination of notes that becomes a melody to a composer. This is what my soul desires. It wants to be carefree and wild, beautiful and elegant, lost in the wonder of new discoveries.

Portugal brought new, different experiences everyday. Here in the states I'm back to being normal. English is spoken the same without the sing-songy tone and heavy tongues, I know all the habits and traditions of the people, I've tasted all the food. There's no joy of discovering new things, no excitement in finally finding your way home, no satisfaction in the success of holding a conversation with someone.

All my life I've known that I want to work somewhere that challenges me with something different everyday. The United States isn't challenging. It's like a cow in a pasture perfectly content eating the same patch of grass each day. I am a wild filly with a soul that can't be tamed, one that can't be broken, content to run for the rest of my life, taking each day as it comes...

So i'm running. Only for a few days, but running none the less.