The next day waking up in my own bed feels so surreal. It’s like waking up from a dream that you didn’t want to end. The ache in my body reminds me of yesterday and yesterday I was in another country. When we were making the descent in the plane, I stared out into the blackness of the night sky and the lights of the city blinking at me. Then and there, I thought to myself, if this plane had crashed, I would die happy. And in some ways, I hoped it would because I would want to be forever suspended in that moment of happiness. I didn’t want to go back to the life of stress and work when I got back. I longed for the peacefulness I had felt in another country.
I guess this just means that this holiday has been the most fulfilling one I have ever had in my life. I did so many things and tried to do even more. If death had always been something I feared, and yet I thought I was going to die happy, then this trip must have really been good.
I long to go back. But I know the experience would never be the same as the first.