DAY 13: On Traveling

So I definitely wrote this yesterday and completely forgot to put it up. Sigh.

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I am having the hugest writing block ever right now.

It’s only day 13, and I’m realizing that blogging is sometimes really really hard to do.

But here goes:

There are so many places I haven’t been. I want to spontaneously visit cafes and museums in Europe. I want to visit Australia and see kangaroos getting hit by cars instead of deer. I want to haggle for useless trinkets in China. I have this picturesque image of myself in a really nice Burberry coat against the Himalayas.

There are so many places I want to go, but if I could get away today, I think I would choose to visit Cancun again without a moment’s hesitation. It's a familiar place in pictures that's becoming slowly unfamiliar in my memories.

I remember it being the best few days of my life.

I could probably go on for ages talking about the food, the juice, the partying, the beaches, the Mayan ruins, the snorkeling, the everything, but I think I’ll refrain.

What I do remember is sitting outside at around 11 p.m. one night. It was dark, but the night was so warm that I was able to relax in only a swimsuit. The only thing that lit up the entire sky was a white moon. The only thing that I could hear was the distinct murmur of the sea. I l distinctly remember looking up and wondering if I could see the man in the moon. I couldn’t. But it was at this night that I felt completely at peace. I had never felt more at peace in my life. It almost felt spiritual—like something else had just crawled into my body and blown warmth into the chilly corners inside my head, cleansing it pure.

It didn’t last for long, but it was magical.

I want to go back and see if that magic is still there. Would the who I am now feel what the girl back then did?