I think I've been practicing freedom
in short bursts.
Not intentionally.
Just...
whenever I could.
Trips.
Time away.
Breaking routine
for a few days
or a few weeks.
Leaving.
And every time,
something shifted.
Not dramatically.
But enough to notice.
Different pace.
Different decisions.
Different priorities.
Then I'd come back...
and it would fade.
Like it never really belonged to me.
Maybe that's why I kept leaving.
I wasn't chasing places.
I was chasing the version of myself
I only seemed able to find there.
— a. nomad