peur

| fear (feminine noun) | /pœʀ/

In one month, I will embark on a frightening voyage through Eastern Europe. For ten days, I will travel alone on night trains from Budapest to Southern Transylvania and finally into Bucharest, Romania’s capital. Though I consider myself independent, driven, and confident, I am also terrified of being alone. I am a paradox. I should be able to explore the convolutions of my own mind without trembling in fear. Why do I cower? I hope this trip heals me. I hope it teaches me something indispensable about myself. Additionally, I’ve chosen to travel by train, because, in my opinion, it’s the most therapeutic way to travel. It also lends me an optimum amount of time to read and write while watching the landscapes pour past my window.

I’ve wanted to visit Romania since my father and I read The Historian three years ago. It’s a brilliantly written thriller that explores the fascinating history of Dracula, or Vlad The Impaler. While ascending mountains and exploring castles, I’ll think of my dad and our mutual love of literature. I want to see sweeping landscapes so lush they burn blue and my knees buckle at the sight of them. I want to feel small again. I want to revel in beauty. I want-I need to be scared, to feel my heart racing and my blood churning cold in my veins. I want to feel invincible and powerful and brave. No, I’ll never be ready. But, hell, I’m gonna do it anyway.

About Gabriella

I'm a twenty-something insomniac with a caffeine addiction and chronic wanderlust. I recently graduated with my M.A. in French, and I've spent the past two years living and working as an English teacher in France. I now work as an English professor at a university in Lille, where my students are learning to never omit the Oxford comma.
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