So yea, we get home and my blogging perseverance and persistence fades completely. It is a shame that these trips do not end like movies. There is no climax, just a long tired flight home, and my life suddenly seems too boring to even comment on. When you leave the adventure, no one really says goodbye to you, which of course is logical, though also feels a bit like finishing a marathon with no cheering. No little paper cups of water shoved in your face or high fives over well deserved beers. I know you goons are out there though, reading and fist pumping and enjoying the blog, but it is a lot like keeping phantoms as friends.
It feels unnatural coming back to the United States from a long and strange trip. I would not call it depressing. You sort of just string yourself along for a couple weeks of perpetual disappointment. My camera is broken. The other one was stolen. I have nothing to write about. My tools and subject are gone, and this is a difficult thing to articulate. I feel like a comedian with no jokes. Aside from domestic travel, I do not know when the next adventure will come. This is the first time in a few years that I do not have an adventure looming somewhere out beyond the grand horizon, beckoning to me like a siren at sea.
I suppose this is goodbye for now. For all of you that kept up, it means so much to me. I got to check off a box next to "travel writer" on my checklist of things that I want to be in life. I would not have done it without readers. Hopefully, this is not the end of goboogo, but I get married in May and have a feeling that this part of me may live on as a ghostblog to reference an especially exciting period of my life.
Or I might move to China in September.