Solitude and fear often led me to travel. When I searched for answers I traveled, bought a ticket to find me. In other times, when I had no source of income, the trips happened closer but much more far away.
I would shut the door of my house, put on my street slippers, look at the sky, and run down the stairs. With or without the dark-green blanket on my back, I walked with the certainty that I would find what I was missing.
At the top of the stairs on the large terrace, I involved myself in the blanket, and laid my back on the dirty pavement. I stood there for hours, contemplating the shinning night. Me and an infinite blue cloth, dotted with silver and light, which cradled my soul. Infinite thoughts, sensed tears and lost glances in the darkness, of which I was a part of. I found myself every time I hit my back on that terrace, in my piece of paradise.
Many times it was you, Alice, who attracted me. I always knew you were the closest star to the moon. The one that gleamed and made a presence when I stretched there, disoriented. So many memories of you haunted me and I felt you so heartily, as if I had never lost you. You heard and responded, it was there where I hugged you again.
Today from where I stand, the gigantic buildings overshadow the stars and I don’t see you. But I feel you close, as close as it once was. Maybe it’s all of this that motivates me to travel. In this incessant search of finding direction and happiness, in acts as simple as admiring and rambling in the night.
Alice, I travel to find you. Always.
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