I’m going to do the motorbike trip to South America solo. This decision is mine. A self imposed exhile of sorts.
As much as this decision brings a sense of relief it also introduces a very distinct feeling of… lonely despair. These feelings are also woven into my concerns for my Mothers declining health. A low level anxiety about life and loss. A willing return to the philosophy of ‘born alone/ die alone’. I know it all seems so dramatic but for me it is the truth.
On the upside, choosing to travel alone has me much more comfortable with writing openly. I suppose the ultimate goal would be to feel able to write and be in the company of people.