I seem to only write when I’m in another place. Well I’m back in Brazil after some 400 days away. Anyway, it’s back to business blogging wise for the next month.
The first few days have been epic like the mountains that I’ve been flitting around, with elephant highs and lows (Brazil is the perfect country to have an affair of the heart in, by the way) (Also I will warn you right now this a post about love, not about a country).
Being with someone you love again. Ridiculous, rushing reunions that ebb into real life in waves of relief and disappointment. Being apart for long periods of time means that you have big gaps of experience that sometimes need filling in and sometimes don’t. Sometimes what you both imagined was in the gaps isn’t there at all.
So there you both are, constantly re-navigating a sprawling sea of two lives in a puddle of a month, in two languages you both don’t fully grasp, trusting that the other one is still searching for the same thing you are.
Maybe this is true of all relationships. Little leaps of faith in gaps of misunderstanding.
I’m making a book whilst I’m here too, a document of time unravelling.