of travels & regrets

Every wonderful travel deserves a story of its own – this place that encompasses so much of my memories more than deserves a post of its own. I will leave this to another time – kindly allow me to indulge in past memories for awhile, one which brings much regret even today …

I arrived at the historical town late evening of a day in July. Dark clouds were looming, nightfall was coming. And I felt a strangely unsettling emotion tugging at my heart throughout the journey.

I should have known better when I stepped through the arch doorway. Tears fell, but I couldn’t understand why. Maybe this historical town gave a surge of nostalgia that I couldn’t help but succumb to it? Maybe I was simply touched by the sights I’d seen, not an unfamiliar experience just as I had when I was in Russia? I should have known, should I not? I heard the mental note, I will never come back again …

I stepped upon the raised platforms and looked over the 13th century fortress walls. Engulfed by the sights of rolling hills and little cottages, it all felt surreal.

I bring with me an immense regret.
There are times we assumed we were giving the best to our loved ones, but we failed to understand that whatever we’ve deemed “best” might not have been so. Was it all in personal interest that I’d assumed this was a great place to visit? Might I have considered that someone who wasn’t in top-condition of health would’ve found it a struggle to trudge along the cobblestone pathways and up the hills? Was the sight worthwhile?

I travel, I enjoy visiting new places, I love to learn all about these great historical places. But I might have once neglected the emotional & physical burden these brought on someone I cared for. Now all has passed, time doesn’t turn back, and I bring a part of you with me to all my future travels.

I never had the chance to ask or find out if you’d truly enjoyed yourself; you’ll say you did even if it had been a battle…

Somewhere in the heavens, I trust you’ll hear me …

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