One of my current roommates (hope she has finally checked out) eyed me for a good ten minutes when I

It s been two weeks since I started this journey. It s been days since I wrote something, anything about the places I ve seen. It s this constant movement, bed and breakfast inn the packing of bags just when you ve settled to a routine, the kind of apprehension attached to being alone wrapped in a beautiful solace that perhaps one may never find by always being at home.
No, the soul is meant to travel, that I m quite sure at the moment. Detachment is necessary, to blur prejudices and challenge your beliefs. Like, I m always comfortable by myself. But after three days in solitude, I missed the companionship back home. That clean, fresh-laundered things are a luxury, and perhaps I should ve packed less clothes and more socks.
When I was stuck for hours waiting for my train to Munich, in a hellhole of a station without a heater, I can still feel the cold air through my clothes. I wanted to sleep but I could not, more because of the relentless wind than worrying about my safety. With only a half-hour before boarding, I felt my consciousness slipping bed and breakfast inn between sleep and waking. And when I finally settled inside the coach, it was the best nap of my life.
One of my current roommates bed and breakfast inn (hope she has finally checked out) eyed me for a good ten minutes when I arrived, while she was in bed, peeking from the curtain. She did the same thing in the morning. I slept with one eye open that night.
But these things are of calm distresses, nothing that borders on physical harm, and I do pray it will stay that way. Because nothing beats the rush of finally getting the groove bed and breakfast inn of how-to-go-here-from-what, like the vaporettos and trams that I ve already figured out. Or biting into a brustwurst, by chance meeting a nice couple and a gentleman during Oktoberfest.
After the sobering Dachau concentration camp tour, a kindly lady befriended me. We talked over beer, about her kids, her retirement, about my trip, and my bucket list. Her treat, which was really nice for a barely-shoestring traveler.
To have a pretty stranger help you in Brussels. Or French elders winking at you. A man named Claudio stealing a kiss. This cute Japanese always greeting me good morning. The surprise messages and the blessings of answered prayers. Of finding the right gleis, hopping on the right train, seeing the Cinderella castle bed and breakfast inn with a kindred friend. bed and breakfast inn My mom learning I am gay, and still telling bed and breakfast inn me she s very proud of me.
The things bed and breakfast inn I ve lost, those that I could still lose, are merely small changes to the things I ve gained. Here s to our dreams bed and breakfast inn and fears, and the moments where we ve leapt, and still don t know how we ll land. Keep the faith.