Mexican Map with paperplanes tattoos

Between Us: 493 Days

493 is the number of days that I’ve spent out of my country since my last visit. Sometimes it seems like a lifetime, but it’s the price I wanted to pay for some of my decisions. It may seem a high price, especially when I discover new wrinkles on my father’s face, wondering which experiences brought them, which adventures I’ve missed. However, it always seems a reasonable price every time I answer “no” to the question: “What would you change from the past?“. Sometimes it just seems like yesterday the day when I left, especially when I find in my best friend’s green eyes the same teenager boy who spent all his afternoons of puberty with me, or when I see in the smile of my best friend the same Caribbean girl who thinks that you just need the ocean to be happy. Being away is exciting but painful. It’s exciting feeding the soul with new experiences but it’s painful realizing that life doesn’t need your presence to go on. I’m glad of the maturity of my city but it hurts not seeing it growing up.
I want to dedicate this trip to heal all those wounds caused by nostalgia. This time I’m coming to fill the bag of memories that will perfume my life with a home essence.