Departure

In front of the bathroom mirror, I did all those usual things that you take for granted.  There would be very little of this for the next few months.  I then headed to my girlfriend's house for what would prove to be a far more difficult goodbye than expected.  I've left during relationships before -- the high school sweetheart I thought I could never live without or the summer relationship during college, brilliant and intense.  But nothing like this.

If she whispered "stay," I'd be crafting excuses as to why I had to delay my flight a week, two weeks, forever, rather than sitting under flickering florescent lights as the babies of strangers scream in foreign tongues here in the Los Angeles International departure terminal.

Quite a decision.

But how could I not take this trip?  I've been working at a computer for the past 6 and a half years -- hired in two weeks after graduation.  I didn't travel after college.  No time!  I had to go straight to work for what would become the largest software company in the world.  I was wide-eyed and excited.  The eager college kid managed to trade a mediocre programming talent for a career and I wouldn't realize until later what I had missed.

Now, years later, I want the adventure of travel.  I want to recapture what I missed.  I want to see the world and I want it to see me.  But this trip could be the end of a relationship.  How do I balance the two?

Joanna wrote me a good-bye letter -- she gave it to me last night and told me not to read it until I was on the plane. She concluded with:

Please remember, as you travel, that you have my heart packed away in one of those bags. Don't lose it, don't forget you have it, and don't break it.

I hope I won't.