Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
As we sat down that night, I asked how they had done it.
Bill looked over at his wife, “We're best friends.”
I nodded, still unsure if that were enough. “Do you have a wife, Leon?” Melissa asked,
squinting toward my hand to look for a ring.
“No,” I smiled. “I have a girlfriend who wants to be a wife, though.”
“Ohhhh,” they said in unison.
Melissa thought about it before answering, “You know, when you're young, you think
that it's just about you. You think that your happiness is what matters most, but I think as
you get older you realize that it's the happiness of the people you love that will bring you
the most joy.”
I had seen that in all the relationships I had experienced on the road. I knew that giving
joy brought joy, and yet something in me still balked at how to do that in my own home.
Bill nodded at what his wife said, “Don't worry Leon. Sometimes the success of a rela-
tionship has as much to do with how much it can handle as it does with how much you give
it.”
Melissa laughed, “I guess that makes us pretty indestructible.”
In the morning, Bill came out to Kindness One and said, “I wish I had done what you
are doing, keep traveling.”
I laughed, “It's not the easiest on relationships.”
“No, I doubt it is. But if you're with the right person, they'll always want to see you
follow your dreams.”
I knew that to keep traveling like this meant I would have to face the road alone. If I
wanted to travel the road that Bill had traversed with Melissa, I might need to stay home a
bit more. I spent the next days riding across a wintery Oregon and into Northern California.
My fingers were sore; my face was frozen. Even as signs began to appear announcing the
miles until Los Angeles, I feared I would never make it. Never in my life had I so badly
wanted to see Lina. I wanted to see Winston, and as the words subtly pounded themselves
into my head, I realized that I wanted to go home.
And then I freaked out. Like,
really
freaked out.
I found myself in the early morning fog of Big Sur only 335 miles from home, and you
can call it cold feet or spent nerves or whatever it might have been, but suddenly, I felt ab-
solutely overwhelmed by the question that had plagued me this whole trip: could I go home
and still live this adventure? Could I be a good partner and still connect to so many people
across the world? I didn't want to be limited by domesticity, and yet at the same time, I
