The Burden Of Travel

So, sometimes it stanks when you kinda have a group figured out. You know, your regular default group that you text at the start of each weekend to ask what's going down. I had a few high hopes for this group, having had some real good talks with all of them (separately). Little did I know that with three guys and two girls, I would be left while the others decided to couple up. And it doesn't help when some alcohol is introduced.

It's still foolish for me to get a girlfriend. All the girls I've been interested in have been either far too like me or far too different, which is a huge downer, 'cause I'm aiming for one of those ones that aren't exactly like me, but are enough like me for our careers to match up (so we aren't stuck after we graduate).

When God tells you to be a medical missionary, it seems like a lot of fun. I've been to Europe, Africa, Asia, and the UK. But when it comes down to it, you see some of the most beautiful sights in the world and wish that nameless someone was there with you. You're forced to pretend whoever is with you can make a temporary replacement, or, if you're just plain alone (like I was in Ireland this summer), you imagine that your crush from the States is right there with you, and that she loves it just as much as you.

But that was another unfortunate revelation. When I finally find her and show her the wonders I've seen, will she even like it? Or will she scoff and want to move on? It's almost terrifying to think that the most beauteous things in the world will be plain and ugly from the eyes of someone you see as similarly beautiful.

Belfast, in the words of multiple locals, is a s***hole. But in my eyes, the eternal green rolling landscape and the cold drizzling rain make it simply brilliant. There's just something about it, and I hope against hope that that future someone will see something near what I see when I look at it.