“If things don’t work out, I can always go back home…”
Objectively, the failed adventure would not have any catastrophic consequences in the event that the worst scenario possible became true. However, I had been dreaming of this moment for years, putting all my hope and faith into this journey. I knew that going back home only a week or even a month after my departure would be psychologically devastating. Like proving the whole world and, even worst, myself that I was wrong all along.
Before I know it, I’m landing in Madrid. The sky is covered in clouds. Looking through the windows in Terminal 4, the world outside looks grey and dull. The view doesn’t help me feel any better about what the future might hold for me.
I board my second plane and walk along the aisle to find my seat. Window (“yes!”). I place my backpack under the front seat, take off my jacket, sit down and fasten my seatbelt. I’m the embodiment of the perfect passenger.
Boarding is about to finish. I look at the empty seat next to me and observe the couples and families around. A feeling of melancholia invades me. I’ve only been away for a few hours, but it already feels like days. “My God, what I’d give to be home in my room right now…” I feel lonely and lost and “What the hell am I doing here? What was I even thinking about when I planned this whole crazy thing!?”. As my mind continues to freak out and prepares to enter a spiral of self-pity and hidden tears, I open the blind and look through the window to check if there is any sign of rain…
Instead, right before my hopeful eyes, a huge double rainbow fills the gloomy sky of Madrid with a beautiful palette of vivid glittering colours. I close my eyes and as I take a deep breath I feel a spark of joy in my heart and a strong sense of peace. With my eyes still closed, I can’t help but smiling.
For the first time in months, I know everything will be just fine.
Madrid, 11th April 2015, 15:45
by Marta Moslw
҉ ҉ ҉