I’ve been thinking quite a lot of this whole process you’re going through when you miss someone. I’m getting a little bit confused at this point, because I seem to react and feel in ways I never thought I could possibly do.
There has not gone many days where I have not missed someone.
See, there is no way you could ever have it that perfect, that every single person that ever touched your heart or ever crossed your path and made a mark could all be where you are – at all times. No matter how beautiful and wonderful that scenario would be, it is not possible.
So we miss people.
Every day.
Each second we breathe and moment we live.
Sometimes more vibrant, more real, in ways where you can almost smell their scents or hear their laughs if you simply close your eyes. Those times it can make you smile as the memories dance on your eyelids but also tie your heart into a small piece of nothing where you can hardly grasp for air.
There are times you miss someone just briefly. From nowhere, with no warning, your heart – and the world with it – stops for a second or two. Aching. Smiling. Pure feeling of some sort. And then time starts moving again, and the moment is gone.
But it was there. They were there.
And of course there are the small thoughts, the quick ones. The ones you could compare to a soft breeze a summer night, or a snowflake landing on your tounge – you should (and do) feel the slightest cold but before you can sense it, it’s gone. But those too makes the people you miss in your life right there, even if it is only for the smallest of seconds.
The hard part of missing souls you feel connected to is when it tends to prove itself to be a long, mind wrenching struggle to let go of the feeling that you miss them. When you sometimes can walk around a whole day thinking about some people miles and miles away. This kind of missing usually happens when I just left them, or when I know I get to see them in a very near future.
And here is my confusion. I’ve had this long, never ending, mind wobbling craving to go back to Cape Town and to meet everyone again. I have always known that I would go back, and that it would be soon, but somehow I might have thought that it would not happen after all.. It’s happening now. And the excitement I feel is out of this world, but the closer I get to my departure date – the further away from everything and everyone I feel.
I have come the phase where I start thinking about scenarios where I meet the ones I’ve missed very much. How I will react, how will they react, now what, oh shit, look at you, where am I, what am I doing, i’ve missed you, I am so happy to be back..
And I do think about every single one every day and I still miss them, but I am getting a little bit confused regarding the fact that I’m more withdrawn to the fact of going back instead of dancing my socks off with eagerness over my return.
I don’t usually feel like this. Why is this?
Maybe it is as clear as the fact that the sun will set each night, slowly descending in to a sea of colors.
It might be. And it probably is. I simply think I am a bit scared that everything that was then might have faded in to something transparent, something less touchable and less real – just because I want it so bad to be just as loving as it was then.
Soon it will show. And I’m excited for it.

This first trip abroad made me realize what my dream was. It put everything in to focus, and I knew right then and there – I need to travel and write about it. I need to see places and describe them in words where the reader takes my hand and joins me when I climb those mountains and when I taste that dish. I want to share the intensity found on the backstreets of Tokyo and happiness in remote areas across Asia. There are so many stories yet to be told about the world, together with the people and animals we share it with I can not even dream of the satisfaction it would give me to be able to portray, if only just a little piece, of it to the rest of the world.
Tonight was one of the most beautiful nights I’ve seen in a long time. There was no wind and the cold, crispy air made your nose a little bit red if you stayed outside too long. Your hands needed to be coverd in soft, warm fabric and your feet needed the same.