It has recently been a recurring thought in my mind that apart from the obvious attractions and advantages of travelling, it also teaches- or forces- me to learn to be better at letting go of people and things. I have always suffered from the worst case of inability to let go of people, memories, and things, becoming so attached to them that when the inevitable time of separation arrives, it hurts unimaginably.
The meeting of new people, the forming of what would be precious friendships, and the making of the loveliest memories with them in new places, I now see as opportunities for me to learn to have these people and then to let them go when it is time to leave. To let go of the people and places because we will never be the same again, never experience the same memories again.
But when my last travel has ended only so recently, the indelible loss is still so raw and the absence of the people still so palpable. (But this is only to be expected because we spent a relatively significant amount of time together, right?)
It has to hurt for it to get better though, and travelling perpetuates this cycle, but only for the better. Because there has to come a time when I get more used to this process and it will start to hurt less. I will learn to no longer hold onto people and things with a palm that is so often tightly clasped, but with a more open one, with no expectations nor demands- to let them go when they have to because they will have to. And perhaps, when it all comes down to it, all that I can hold onto are the memories that we have forged together because these memories are the ones that last. And these, I think, have to be enough.