Rhapsodies of the Barefooted Gypsy

Who says roller coasters are fun?

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I don’t know why it seems that whenever I travel to Sydney, I always come back to Cairo broken hearted.

I have started concluding that traveling is my demise.

My friends who keep tab on me through Facebook think that I am happy. That I live well. I guess they are fooled. After all, I will not put pictures of me crying on social networking sites. No, they should think I’m one strong, confident, happy, insert-all-fearless-synonyms-here woman. So upload those pictures of me and my cute cocker spaniel puppy, upload videos of me playing the piano, upload pictures of me and my salad and a good book to read. Fool everyone including myself to thinking I am ok. I figure, I should leave all the drama to writing.

They think traveling back and forth Sydney and Cairo (which is part of my job) is all glamorous and fun, and it can be, except when I come back to Cairo and is given a cold hug of irreverent goodbye.

Most of my long time friends only see me from afar. They only see holiday pictures by the beach and other cool yet pretentious stuff like eating at a great cafe surrounded by new friends. Yes, my life is great, or so they think.

What most people fail to see behind all those smiles, is all the goodbyes and hard work that come with traveling.

I have said a lot of hellos and goodbyes to people that I thought are awesome but will never see again. I met a lot of great people that I would love to see again and again but because I travel back and forth, it is hard to stay in touch, or sometimes, I go back to the city where I met them only to find out they already left or moved to another country.

It’s a social roller coaster ride out there.

Before I left for my second trip to Sydney in July 2011, I was seeing this guy. I came back after two months and found him gone. Not gone-gone, it was more like “I met this girl and I want to see where it will go” kind of gone.

That was heartbreaking. I thought things have ended in my life, I felt miserable until November.

Yes, sweet November.

I started seeing a new guy and everything was just fantastic. (By the way, I decided to start this blog thanks to him. Probably 80% of the things I will write here for the next three months will be about him so bear with me.)

It was a new relationship and I was excited all over again, feeling jumpy and giddy inside and want to do cartwheels on the outside because my heart is too small to contain such a big feeling of being in love. Being in love? I recognized that feeling, I know it very well and have felt it before but it was as though I was meeting love for the first time. It was as though everything was new again. But then I had to go back to Sydney in December and that’s when things started feeling old.

We said we will celebrate Christmas and New Years, and our second month together when I get back to Cairo and we did. It was a beautiful night filled with laughter and passion and gifts and Iloveyous and Imissyous. Sounds like a happy couple? Well, yes, except for the part where he broke up with me three days later.

No reasons, no explanations, no nothing. So, now, I am left to endure what any broken hearted person has to go through–another hard and painful goodbye, tubs of salty tears, tubs of ice cream, sleepless and chilly nights, loveless mornings, whathaveyous. It’s like saying “hello, broken heart, we meet again.” And that was the last thing I need.

It is an emotional roller coaster ride, but luckily, my girlfriends are on an all out support as I go through all the loop the loops.

I am reminded that even as I say goodbye, my girls are always there for a hot cup of chocolate and more “he’s a loser” make-me-feel-good chitchats which is more than enough to keep me going through this heartbreak whether I’m in Cairo or traveling somewhere in Oz.

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