I’ve never really thought much about moving to a country, setting up my life, living my life, and then exiting that life for another one. I would further say that this feels very comfortable for me. I enjoy the challenge. I dare say I’m addicted to this ‘feeling’. There is such beauty in letting go.
Think about the stages of falling in love; it’s a long process and quite addictive. Falling out of love, again, a long process. Addictive? In a sense, yes. I mean to say, that the feelings resulting…they are nothing short of brilliant for artistic endeavors; writing, painting, etc. Staying in love… that’s the challenge, right? Is this why I run away?What do people write about when they are in love?
So, I consider countries/working situations for the past 20 years as a sort of relationship, each one. I’ve written about this before, and it’s a constant consideration in my mind. For example, Istanbul was this boyfriend that I was addicted to- even though I knew ‘he’ wasn’t right for me. Istanbul was like what I (naively, I’m sure) think heroin is like. It was extremely difficult to leave, but I did — although it’s always in the back of my mind… New York City was a similar feeling; it was super exciting, but I knew that relationship would never last. It was an epic summer fling. Rarely do I think about NYC. But that’s okay.
If you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with... Each country mirrors a passionate volatile lover. Infatuation turns into daily living turns into departure. Each departure, although exciting, increasingly becomes more and more difficult, though. Perhaps that’s not the right word choice, difficult. Maybe now, though, it’s that I’m remaining behind. I’m the lover that is being left behind. Of course, I know I will also leave this lover but not just yet…
Being an ‘outsider’ is never my worry, honestly. Or, it is never the reason to leave; this is more appropriate to describe each exodus. Each country is an unpredictable partner, and I think I’ve adapted to this frame of mind. After all, each country I’ve moved to has been about work. I’ve excelled at building family, work relationships, communities, and then exiting them. There is this lingering love connection with each intimate connection I make, and meeting up with these family members in other countries is the logical trajectory. Lovers reuniting. This is what we always tell each other- when we are leaving; the aftermath of the break-up. I’m already dreaming of returning to Turkey next winter. It’s been too long since I’ve connected with that lover.
Because I am a person who likes seeing patterns in things, I think about the inevitable break-up with my current country. Is Portugal going to break the pattern, the chain, for me? I fell in love with Portugal years ago. Portugal, though, I am realizing is not a lover. It’s a partner. Portugal has always been something separate. It’s just always been a stable relationship that I could always count on. So how does Portugal fit into my patterned existence? I’m not sure yet, but I kind of like the idea of staying in love there. Or, I think I’m up for the challenge.
Am I finally shifting from a series of torrid romances to a foundational partnership? I wonder. Is Morocco going to be my last goodbye love letter, my last exodus?
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