Almost five years ago, I returned from two years of living and working abroad. Like many people who travel, I returned for what I thought was a “temporary” period. I’d planned to stick around for no more than a year. Just enough time to plan the next trip, the next adventure… but somehow life got in the way.
I fell back in with familiar friends, landed a really great job, and found an amazing apartment. Before I knew it, I was settled, and you know what, it felt good. It was nice to sit still for a while and the longer I stayed, the easier it became.
Almost too easy.
A little over a year ago the monotony started to get to me. I realized I was living life for the weekends, counting my vacation days, and daydreaming of something better. That great job I thought I had was turning into just a job, and I was ready for a change.
But just how big a change was I thinking? And what about Mike?
The first time I moved overseas it was just me. I didn’t have to worry about what someone else wanted. It was a big decision, but it was my decision. This time there were two of us.
I can’t really remember how it came up. It was just something that started to pop into daily conversations. Mike had been unhappy at his job for a while, and I think we were both starting to feel the need for change. The first few times we talked about it, it was more of a hypothetical conversation. But the more we talked about it, the more it became a possibility, and eventually a reality.