Sometimes I think about how different life would be if I had stayed where I was—in an ideal utopia of family and friends, easy living and simple pleasures. I think about what would happen if I ever turned back to that. It would be easy to do—a plane ticket, a few phone calls, some good-byes. And then I realize how impossible it really is, I realize that there’s no undoing what’s done, there’s no turning back from the life I’ve created.
And then I just hope that at the end of this crazy, winding, unpredictable road, I’ll end up in a place just like the one I started in. I hope that I’ll be in my own little version of home, smiling over a stove, cooking my husband dinner while the sun sets on yet another beautiful day.
That’s the dream, isn’t it?
