Don’t Date A Boy Who Travels

You could date a boy who travels, and be in awe of how he defines precious things differently than the regular guy-next-door. Or you could spare yourself the pain and agony that may follow.

The boy who travels is beautifully scarred, having traversed icy slopes from this end of the world to terrains on the other, bearing scratches from tree branches and brimming with stories like that one time when he got stung by a jellyfish. The boy who travels talks about his misery with laughter, sure, and he has a sense of positivity that is contagious, that you cannot let go of even if – when – you have to let go of him.

And that uncertainty between if and when is why you shouldn’t date a boy who travels. A boy who travels has homes everywhere – in one corner of Europe to another in the Middle East – and it takes him no time to decide to move from one to the other. And even if he has built a home in you – if you have let him, that is – he may take off one cloudy Monday morning, just like that. It won’t mean you meant nothing, or that you weren’t one of his experiences. You were, but he just moved on when it was time for him to.

He touches places, souls, the sand grains of beaches he has walked on, but he only stays for as long as he has experienced the place and long enough for the place to experience him. He then leaves them craving him, with absolutely no idea how terribly he is missed – and loved – by these creatures who know not how to reach him. And just like that, he won’t know how terribly you miss him when he is gone. The boy who travels may know of or learn many languages, but he comprehends only one – his own, and he won’t understand yours even if it’s said with the same syllables as his.

You may find in his pocket a hand-written roadside cafe bill from some corner in Nepal or a seashell he picked up from a beach in Brazil, because the boy who travels collects souvenirs from places he has been to – and that includes you, that includes your heart. He will cherish the comfort of your heart, the softness of your love, and the honesty in your feelings. But those, too, are souvenirs for him – ones he will carry with him to remember you, cherish you. But they will only be a small part of the huge collage he has built on his room wall with his souvenirs from all over.

The boy who travels has everything in lists – places he will go, things he will see, feelings he will experience. And you, you are a part of that list. This doesn’t mean he is evil, or has cruel intentions. It just means he is detached. He is just a boy who travels. Sure, when you look into his eyes, you catch a glimpse of the whole world, brimming with stories about the saint getting a blow job in the middle of the night, or the earthquake that almost got him killed. Sure they’re beautiful and the most vividly coloured pair of eyes you have ever seen, but these are eyes that blink faster than your heart beats and you will not be able to keep up with them, you won’t.

Because the boy who travels lets go more easily than he gets attached. The boy who travels is merely ticking off things from a list that has collected dusts of time and tea-stains from his journeys. When you date a boy who travels, he doesn’t come to you, he only comes back to you so unless you want to be that leap year, unless you want to be that station in transition, unless you are okay with him only looking at you and never reflecting on you, don’t date a boy who travels. Because the boy who travels lives his life through moving, through transitions. He experiences love through beautifully minuscule things, intangible feelings, and while that may be wonderful, remember, he is also constantly seeking the place – the edge, the hilltop or seashore – where the world ends and he doesn’t know that the end of the world is a time, not a place, so he will keep leaving, re-leaving and reliving until he has found it.