When I left I didn’t realize the amount of time I would spend in the sky. Big and small airports: a collecting ground for big and small aircrafts. I started out eating the peanuts and crackers. Hugging them into my body as I ate, never really full. Small snacks for my small stomach. In Malaysia I did mushrooms with people I just met. We hugged one another under a tree and whispered the deepest and darkest secrets we could summon. I travelled to Australia and worked in a spaghetti factory, smuggling home pasta and eating it like candy. When I left for Bolivia, I ate the in-flight dinner and politely asked for another bread roll. I flew back home a year and fourteen countries later, my stomach stretched and full.
I took my friend to the airport this morning. I miss travel and the smell of new places. It sticks with you, I think. Follows you around forever. The smell and the missing.