My Friend,
I fear the summer duldrums have already set in. I know, it is way too early for that. But each day I am confronted by clients who tell me of their summer trips they have planned. Greece, Italy, Aruba. I have the escape bug under my skin. I told the children we would go to South Padre Island this summer, but I can't seem to get myself excited about going to a beach in Texas. I am a travel snob with no money to back it up.
So I have been quiet. I have quieted my urges and ponderings by numbing myself with mindless TV. Carefully skipping over the Travel Channel.
This leads into something you and I have touched on before. At what point do we just accept the lives we have and embrace them for what they are? I will never be a Shirley Valentine sitting with a glass of wine on the beach in Greece. Hell I don't even like wine, why would I like it any more there? And replacing a glass of wine for a Diet Coke just does not ellicit the same emotion.
So I will never be part of an Olympic team. I can deal with this. Knowing you will never have the things you never really cared about in the first place is easy to let go of.
Will I really live in Texas for the rest of my life? I have spent much of my eighteen years here denying that. But now there is a career, a clentelle, children, mortgage.
This is not my beautiful house...this is not my beautiful wife...
I can escape in books, and writing, and romantic comedies. But my body feels the difference. The urge to flee. If even only for a little while.
I have been cursing the lack of money in my life when I am sure there is much more to curse. From where I am sitting the thought, "If I only had the money..." plays more times in my head than Paris Hilton footage on TV.
This urge will pass, it always does, but maybe you should pack a suitcase in case I come by your house one night and honk the horn to take you along with me.
Write soon of what adventures have been keeping you away.
With Love
G.