Last updated: August 1, Others, bliss. And for some of us, we just really love pizza. Love happens. Beautiful, horrible and a real pain in the A, all at the same time. I remember the first time I fell in love overseas. That girl was Level 10 crazy to the moon and back. The more I travelled, the more women I met.
Short relationships, long relationships, friend-zonifications, platonic friendships and wild flings β they happened all over the world. On it went. They just kind of happened. Meeting them was just soβ¦interesting. A first date was like a wild adventure. Everything was new. Everything was amusing. It was always funny and memorable, and at the very least, a great story to tell the boys back at the hostel.
It was impossible to have a boring date on the road. And soon I learned, every country breeds amazing women. Some are demure and sweet, others wild and adventurous, but all were unique and beautiful in their own way. To date a foreign girl was the ultimate culture shock; sometimes good, sometimes horrific, but always worth it. How do you cook it? Can we go eat it?
Is it good? It became impossible to date at home again. There was nothing to talk about. It was just soβ¦boring. It was either underwhelming, or fleeting, or both. My real mistress. You meet a girl. You go on a date. Maybe that makes me a dick. But when your heart is telling you to go, are you really not going to go?
Because I hurt too. Those awful, gut-wrenching goodbyes that still make my stomach echo when I think about them today. But at the end of the day, I need to keep moving. When I need to go, I need to go. Endless adventure is always waiting. Where do you stop? How can love compete? Perhaps, this is the double-edged sword of worldly curiosity.
