It's been a long day. My feet ache. I'm sitting near the back of a train headed towards downtown. I've moved my bags to surround me, leaving the seat next to me empty. Though I know that no one will be needing it, I leave it empty out of courtesy. I'm feeling a little crowded with my bags but I'm tired enough that it doesn't matter. In front of me in the open area of the train car is an African woman with a young child and a fat baby. They cause her trouble while she yells into a flip phone. A sappy love ballad plays in my headphones. The train moves along steadily, occasionally jostling on rough patches. We enter a tunnel. It's completely black inside, the only illumination coming from inside the train car itself. The train stops at the airport terminal. And that's when I get the feeling -- the feeling of wanting to get off right there, of wanting to find the first plane ticket to a wonderful place and leave, leave for a few weeks, maybe forever, just keep going from place to place, leaving everything behind, longing to get out of here, to get away from everything that's keeping me tied here, if only I had the means.
Many people would call this feeling Wanderlust. A German word, formed from the words wandern - to wander, to roam; and Lust - desire. The desire to wander. But it is something so much more. The Germans have another word that describes this feeling better than Wanderlust: Fernweh. Formed from the words fern - far, distant; and weh - in this context, pain or ache. An aching for what is far away. A longing that I have felt from the beginning of my adolescent life, growing stronger as I advanced into adulthood. My body is here but my soul is always elsewhere, wishing to be free of the anchors holding me in one place.
The airport has two terminals. I still have a chance to get off. People get on and off the train freely. But I stay planted in my seat. I have work tomorrow. And I don't have my passport with me. The train car has filled up a bit. A heart-wrenching Swedish ballad plays in my headphones. We continue on our way downtown.
It's more than just wanting to go somewhere far away. It's about wanting to escape. Escape the problems of today and be carefree tomorrow. Escape all responsibilities and escape the emptiness in your life and fill it with the substance of excitement and adventure. I want to escape. I need to escape.
I'm close to the end of my ride. The African mother leaves with her children. Commuters get on after a long day of work. I feel a sense of resignation as I know that I'll have to get up soon. I have to pick up my things to leave. Carrying all these things is a burden when you have a long way to go yet. It's time to go home. My feet ache.
