I have fallen a little in love with each place I have ever been.
It is that type of love that you know you cannot possibly sustain, but you fall anyways. Dirty, noisy, beautiful, remote, harsh, foreign, sprawling, and ancient - I have fallen for them all. And upon reflection I still love those places, in the way you would look back on something or someone fondly and wonder, "what if..." Loving something makes it harder to give up, harder to move on. But I don't think I entirely move on from places. I am quite convinced that there are little bits of my heart scattered across the globe at this point and I am sure pieces will be left in many places to come. I think as each bit is left behind, in its space an impression takes hold - a smell, an image, a feeling from where I have loved. So that just as part of me stays behind leaving me to feel a bit emptier, something new takes root inside and grows to fill me a bit more.
I still have so much heart to give and so much space to grow.
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