Not yet, anyway. I´ve traveled enough to know that I need it like books and air and dancing. I´ve traveled enough to know that the samosas they sell at the tube stop in London are perfect in the rain, that your breath at an airport in Singapore is heavy and wet with orchids, that Montreal in winter is beautiful grey and blue, and that Australia is just like I imagined it, except better. I´ve traveled enough to know you don´t need a map for trips in a country where you have the language and some currency--just time, an ability to enjoy it, a sense of adventure.
The boy I fell in love with was a terrible lead, but it didn´t make him less wonderful. I forgot to imagine that he wouldn´t fall in love with me, or the mess that would ensue. Hard to say if I want to let go. Wouldn´t it be worse to lose the pain, wouldn´t it be letting go of the good parts too? When I may not find them again?
I never won anything significant in ballroom, but there were moments in ballet class that I would want to live in forever if I could make them keep going. I got a rare but substantial education, mostly by reading chapters at a time and listening to interesting people talk. I won bouts with people twice my size in jujitsu. I learned enough math to see for myself that it can be beautiful, and to not be daunted by any numbers that get used regularly in the real world, even by economists. I have a house, a sort of home maybe. . . maybe. With time.
But there have been other areas of richness--and that´s what I´m after, really, richness of experience--that were not the things I dreamed about.