The Ungrateful (vous avez bien travaillé)


Three different ones in 30 days. That is how many countries I’ve been in the last month. Three countries not including my own, so that would make it four countries I’ve set my feet on in a little over four weeks.

It seems it’ll always be like that. I’ll be running away and looking for places in the hope that they will feel better than my own. But I am afraid that no place will ever feel good.

Always on the run.

I’ve always traveled on my own, and never minded it. Now it’s starting to become a burden, whether it is for work or for pleasure, I don’t enjoy traveling by myself anymore. Transits and connections and delayed time in airports give me a lot of time to think. I think of the places that I’ve visited but also of the people left on the way. In the end, places are always there for you to visit again, but people come and go, they change or leave. They’re also on the run.

My big plans for the near future included starting a family, even if it’s on my own, but lately, I realize that I don’t have anything to offer to a little one when all I feel is so very alone. There’s no close family to bring them into, I wouldn’t even know who I would choose to be godmother or godfather. That’s how sad it is, but that is how I feel. I wouldn’t want to raise a lonely person. That wouldn’t be fair. It’s more than enough with just me.

You try your best but it is never enough. Most people are ungrateful by nature. And I get the short stick every time. If anyone who’s usually sweet, happens to be unpleasant for a while, I get to be the “lucky” one to experience it. Any bad moments? All specially for me. Any bad experiences? I’ll be there. Any problem? I’ll carry it and take it in. Then everyone is eventually gone to do their own thing and I am left with the trail of waste they leave behind. I know a few people who check me online to see where I am and how I am doing, but they never bother calling or writing to ask directly. Very charming.

My life is getting to a point where I don’t know how to handle it anymore. I feel so insignificant that is beyond belief.

And it has started to haunt me in the shape of wild dreams at night.


(This post best read while listening to:
This Weight by Midlake)