I always believed that freedom was the most worthwhile pursuit. I never wanted to pause, never truly settled anywhere. Each new city, each new face, made my life feel vibrant and rich. My world had no roots, only constant movement. Every departure was a chance to begin anew, and I saw myself as a traveller in this fluid world, drifting effortlessly through cities and moments in time, like autumn leaves scattered across London pavements.
Until I met him.
It was a New York evening when I sat in a restaurant corner, watching pedestrians hurry past through the window. He suddenly appeared across from me, greeted me with a smile, and we began to chat casually. Like all first encounters, we discussed trivial matters, travel, life, philosophy… He mentioned he was also a digital nomad, wandering different corners of the world, just as I did. Instinctively, I felt this man must be like me - free-spirited, unburdened, as unanchored as a boat slipped from its moorings.
Our relationship developed with that same lightness and freedom. We would meet in various places around the world, savouring brief but brilliant moments together, like rare glimpses of sunshine between clouds. He understood that I was someone who avoided deeper emotional attachments, responsibilities that might require me to settle in one place.
One late night, during a conversation, he looked at me and asked, “Are you afraid to stop moving?” For a moment, my heart faltered, then resumed its regular rhythm. I smiled and replied, “I’m so used to the digital nomad lifestyle.” He fell silent, closing his eyes as if pondering the deeper meaning of my words. I said nothing more, feeling that familiar urge to avoid confronting the question, or myself.
Each encounter felt like two kindred spirits briefly converging before dispersing again. We walked aimlessly through Barcelona’s streets, where sunlight cast shadows across ancient architecture, the surrounding bustle becoming distant and faint. I would watch him, noticing in his eyes a freedom that seemed foreign to the city itself, as though he longed to leave his mark on the familiar landscape while remaining ready to seek the next unknown destination.
In a proper Dublin pub, we sat by the window, listening to locals chat in their thick accents over pints of Guinness. As I raised my glass, inhaling the deep, roasted aroma of the stout, he asked, “Have you ever considered settling down?” I met his gaze for several seconds, feeling a quiet weight in the air between us. We never needed answers, for that wasn’t our fate. We could only savour each fleeting moment, knowing it would soon end.
We spent time in Lisbon, sitting for hours by the sea, watching the sunset transition from golden to purple hues. In those moments, we seemed like shadows drifting through time, impossible to grasp or retain. For a while, I thought perhaps this was how love should be: without commitments or promises, only meetings and farewells in various corners of the world, silently acknowledging we could never have permanence.
With each farewell, I would casually tell myself, “It’s alright, we’ll meet again.” Yet, these goodbyes always carried a subtle melancholy. Distance and space couldn’t truly separate us; rather, we were divided by an invisible barrier, one that kept us from drawing closer or confronting what we both feared.
We had both chosen this lifestyle - an unbound love and fluid freedom. Whenever I began life in a new city, I knew he was likely somewhere else, continuing his journey with others. We would occasionally think of each other in our separate worlds, remembering those brief moments, but never pausing to truly possess what we had.
As a digital nomad, I chose movement and freedom, always ready to leave, yet feeling empty and lost with each departure. This was my choice, and I knew no one else could fill that void but myself.
In the end, there was no quarrel, no dramatic farewell - just a quiet drifting apart. We stood in the airport, like two temporal drifters no longer destined to be each other's harbour. You checked your luggage while I prepared for my next flight, both of us maintaining that peculiarly British ability to remain polite in awkward situations. Our eyes never met; we only retained vague impressions of each other's silhouettes. No words were exchanged, only an empty silence enveloping us both, as thick as Yorkshire fog.
This reveals another side of the digital nomad life, the side we often don’t talk about. We speak of enjoying unfettered freedom, relishing each new departure and unknown journey. But behind every choice lies something lost. We weren’t wrong in our choices; we simply kept moving without finding a harbour where we could anchor.
Looking back at your figure disappearing into the crowd, I felt something indescribable. Perhaps in this world, all love and connections are merely temporary encounters and farewells, like shooting stars across the night sky, brilliant but fleeting. I no longer knew what constituted permanence or belonging, only that some people are destined to enter your life, leave profound impressions, yet never stay.
I didn’t look back again. I simply followed the crowd towards my check-in counter, flying towards another city, discovering another version of myself.
Perhaps, as you said, freedom isn’t about avoiding things but accepting life’s inherent fluidity. Choosing nomading inevitably means choosing to leave. At that moment, I finally understood that stopping might not require the real courage. True courage lies in facing all this loss and choosing to continue forward, even with an unfillable void in one’s heart.
And so, I remain on the journey.
Never thought I would say this:
I am going to have to read Jane Eyre -- never read it; a boring book; did not like it as a recommended book in English Lit classes. But as we grow you can not escape noticing family dynamics and changes all around you ! Perhaps I was wrong and could not see it at the time. Funny how attitudes change.
https://www.thestar.com/entertainment/books/the-immortal-woman-author-su-chang-on-her-reading-habits-and-what-makes-jane-eyre/article_c3a83980-f38b-11ef-9e49-cbbdc13a3cfa.html?source=newsletter&utm_content=a06&utm_source=ts_nl&utm_medium=email&utm_email=AB04D80198E8CD03DE384CB97B30764C&utm_campaign=bk_10602
Wonderful and Fantastic news, I knew my sister would not let me down. I must tell our Auntie the good news of the deep email I received. I loved it. I do not know how she bares her soul so freely on the Web.
She must be very brave. When did this courage begin ? I never noticed this quality when we were growing up. And it does not matter that she travels a lot and hardly stays at home. Shanghai, Guangdong, Sichuan and Sichuan is a vast sea of people and she simply does want to be anchored and moored at these places.
I was away when she packed her bags and caught the taxi to the airport. I would have gladly driven her there in my new red sports car.
I think Auntie mentioned that she will stay in Thailand teaching Mandarin for 18 months. Her next stop will be to Monaco, South Of France, then Luxembourg before settling in Edinburgh - for how long I do not know. She plans to catch with her travel buddies. Who knows what her plans are next.
Come to think of it she is so unlike our Auntie, who has the endearing surname of Rainbow. The colors of the rainbow each radiating frequencies to make the giant iridescent hemisphere in the sky. And as the leprechaun lads would say: there is a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I think Auntie has found her pot gold with happy deep-work and slow productivity in her research on her kelp farm. My sister has skills in Communication; writing and presentations no wonder her skills are sought after world wide -- why would she stay at home and drown in a sea of people ?
I had a funny thought, pure speculation. I was watching the film Bourne Identity on TV : you know essentially multiple passports; hidden caches of cash, jewelry, clothes, grooming kits ,keys to prime residential apartments all over the world, and to , emotion many past deep relationships and encounters.
Then I thought, could it be ? is my sister an operative working for some obscure organization because she travels a lot and there are hundreds of stamp entries in her passport ? It makes you wonder though
I laughed,my Imagination ran wild and I would joke later to my Auntie about it and see what her response was. We would burst out laughing for sure at the preposterous idea.
There is another psychological explanation: the Peter Pan syndrome - Puer Aeternus as Jung would say: wanting to be child for ever; not wanting to grow up and go to fantasy land. I enjoyed Peter Pan too.
Maybe I have been recollecting film ideas/ themes and trying to weave an explanations - well I do write fiction after all and blessed with an active imagination.
Perhaps I should not be speculating until there is evidence to the contrary. My sister is my big sister that is and unlike other sibling relationships you hear about, our bond is very strong. There I go again making up narratives HAHA
Well at least I will have some ideas to talk about when I have tea with Auntie this afternoon.
So dear Sister if you can sense this, as I send try to send my thoughts telepathically to you.
Please pen more of your strange adventures.
I hope you were mildly amused
PS
I remember a while ago I went to an Archery range with a friend, who never drew the bow before.
Would you believe she got the bulleye on her first shot.
Later she did mention that she is a Sagittarius -- do not know this came up but it explained everything. HAHAHA