Home Life to Travel Life Cycle

I’m on a plane again. Then, the enormous, red rabbit greets me, looming menacingly from the ceiling as I descend the escalators to the baggage claim again, as I have countless times these past two years. Much of the travel the first year could have been avoided, but subconsciously, I was escaping my world then, convincing myself it was for financial necessity. Thus, I successfully removed myself from it, in my constant absence, and now, the travel has become habit, and a necessity perceived or real. As home life friendships begin to blossom and relationships bud, my next trip hits the reset button, and I return beneath the rabbit to start over again. As I do so, my boys get older. Every trip Ryan is a little taller, and I can only imagine what I’ve missed. Life in between is a whirlwind of overcompensating quality time with the kids, detoxing travel food and booze, frantically stocking the house with groceries, clean clothes and a routine. Just when I’m organized and ready to re-connect with a friend, I’m on the road again. No one waits for long. And the cycle has repeated for two years.

It’s shameful to admit, but sometimes I’m happier on the road because everything is new and temporary. There are no reminders of the past, no emotional triggers from the refuse pile of collective pain, as there are back home. The town has only gotten smaller and sometimes, I suffocate in the past. Other times, the past sneaks into my suitcase and startles me while I’m sitting alone in my hotel room. And no matter how quickly I check out of my room, it seeps its way back into my luggage to return home. And sometimes I drink too much, so that the past joins our company, and I feel it all, the loneliness in a room full of rented friends. They are like a disposable camera, producing memories, but only once. I have more stories of the road than I could ever tell, know more of strangers’ lives than those I once considered close and no one asks me to check in when I land anymore. My work phones rings persistently, while my personal phone lies in silence. I no longer carry it with me entertaining clients in the evening. I no longer check in with the boys. It would only interrupt a routine they are comfortable with. They will see me next week.