Wherever She Is, It’s Without You

Maybe she’s in Switzerland on a ferry with a glass of wine on her way to a castle. Maybe she’s in South Africa standing in the back of the safari truck, one camera focused on the lions, the other hanging off her shoulder. Maybe she’s in Swaziland, laughing with the people in the village when they try to teach her a new song to sing. Maybe she’s in Mozambique, smoking shisha and drinking beer with the friends she just met. Maybe she’s in Germany marveling at the citadel while eating a schnitzel at the top of her hike.

Maybe she’s in Hawaii, hitch-hiking across the island, camping under the stars, watching for whales in the morning. Maybe she’s in Ghana in dusty safari boots, sitting in an elephant footprint while watching them play in the water hole. Maybe she’s in the United Arab Emirates at a camel beauty pageant in her jean jacket and ankle-bearing pants dancing side-by-side with men in traditional Arabian garb. Maybe she’s riding a nile crocodile in Burkina Faso, then racing off on a motorcycle until dawn. Maybe she’s riding a camel in Egypt, flying through the desert in the middle of the night on her way to the pyramids. Maybe she’s riding a horse in Nicaragua, galloping bareback through the surf at sunset. Maybe she’s running through the zig-zagged streets of London, laughing as her friends chase her. Maybe she’s in Australia sailing 16 hours out past the great barrier reef on a fisherman’s dingy, to a four-day shark-feeding dive with no cages. Maybe she’s in Colombia hiking the Sierra Nevada jungles by day and dancing in the streets of Cartagena in her black minidress at night. Maybe she’s in Paris having coffee at a restaurant that holds a perfect view of the Eiffel Tower. Maybe she’s in the Kingdom of Jordan letting the elders in the desert read her tea leaves… her face blushing in the reflection of the rosy-red of the City of Petra. Maybe she’s in Denmark chatting with the guards who aren’t supposed to speak to her, but do anyway. Maybe she’s in Finland quietly watching the ships dock at the bay. Maybe she’s wandering through a bazaar in Morocco, stopping only to her eyes and smell the spices while the market bustles loudly around her. Maybe she’s in Portugal climbing in and out and inbetween the ivy growing out of old castles while watching a sunset from a new one. Maybe she’s in Belize feeding sharks and sting-rays and cave-diving. Maybe she is in Aruba drinking rum with pirates under the stars. Maybe she’s in Costa Rica swimming underneath a manta ray. Maybe she’s in Mexico partying with Australians and exploring underwater cities.

Maybe she doesn’t have to be in some far off place to make herself inaccessible to you. Maybe she’s back home, but she’s busy. Maybe she’s writing, photographing, or painting… she’s not thinking about you. Maybe she’s rock climbing and rappelling off cliffs. Maybe she’s killing cancer. Maybe she’s doing both at the same time. She’s not keeping herself available until you fit her into your schedule. She took a weeklong trip just because, she signed up for that class without waiting to see if you wanted to join her, and by the time you decide to think of her, she will already have plans.

She is busy living, and isn’t going to “wait”. The one who can keep up with her is the one that she will meet along the way.

And maybe you could have come with her, but you didn’t want to. Wherever she is, and whatever she goes through, she’s gotten there, and she’s owned it, without you.

I’ve traveled six continents solo, and killed cancer last week.

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