Walking through the airport to catch a train back to the city, instead of departing on a plane towards a new city, is an excruciating torment.
I discovered my torture as we were dropping off our cousins to fly home, but my sister needed to head back to the suburbs, so I headed inside towards the trains.
When your passion is the art of going, it’s the feeling of restlessness in-between trips that quietly tortures you.
Walking through the sliding glass doors into the familiar chaos of the airport, was strange and uncomfortable. I passed the row of check-in kiosks, and stared longingly; like someone on a diet does as they pass a bakery window.
Taking the escalators down towards the baggage claim, through the arrivals area, I could feel the confusion clouding my brain as it struggled to remember that I had not arrived from a long journey.
The usual end-of-journey symbols were sending signals to feel grateful for having made it home safe, while at the same time sending painful reminders that I hadn’t been anywhere at all.
The yearning to leave when you’ve been in one place too long can be just as strong as the need to return after you’ve been away.
As I walked towards the train terminal, I thought: This is why I skipped the $20 Uber and opted for the $2.25 train ride. Every dollar saved goes towards the next destination. Every convenience bypassed is one step closer to being able to set foot on new land.