I want to get lost.

Saffron sunrise in Bagan, Myanmar

My wanderlust has given way to fernweh, and I can feel it at my heels like a pack of mad hound dogs.

They’re yapping and they’re snapping, they’re sinking their teeth into my Achilles, and I am strangely at peace.

I don’t need to get away, I need to get lost. I want to get lost in the sea and in the mountains, I want to get lost in your scent and in your arms, I want to get lost in your softness and in your madness.

But I don’t want to get lost to be found, I want to get lost to find myself.

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