when i took that picture in the airport in Auckland, i thought, “how true”. i was sad, really sad to be leaving. and every time thereafter that i looked at that picture i thought about that moment, the sadness of leaving beautiful countries behind, the sadness of things ending.
until today. until today, when i looked at that picture on flickr (it’s my last uploaded, i still haven’t ventured into Fiji as of yet) and i thought, “that’s not true at all!”. leaving was easy. coming back is hard.
being back is hard. not because I’m bored out of my mind from being sedentary and from the lack of stimulation from new discoveries and new encounters. no, being back is hard because i can no longer avoid reality.
see, i can no longer sleep. since i’ve been back, i haven’t really been sleeping. i slept perfectly well (most of the time) during my trip. i woke up early everyday. i had energy. but now, i can’t sleep. i lie in bed until 4 or 5 am. hoping. praying. to fall asleep. i was blaming the jet lag for this, but it wasn’t right. and being in my own bed. and everything else. but i’ve finally figured it out. it’s reality.
when i was traveling, i could sleep fine. i had nothing to worry about. not about money, relationships, work, living, moving. i would go to bed and put “real life” in the back of my head, stop thinking, and sleep. but since i’ve been back, i can’t do that anymore. i lie in bed and i think. i worry. i analyze. i plan. i don’t sleep. and i try to convince myself that i am tired, that there’s nothing left for me to think about. but it doesn’t work, because I’m not tired, and there’s too many things to ponder.
leaving was easy. being away is easy. coming back – being back – is hard. it’s insomnia.