Adventure is such a loose term. It conjures up all these images of daring escapes, stolen kisses, the moonlight guiding your way as you run for your life or something just as precious. Adventure is the unknown, the thrilling feeling at the deepest corner of the cave. Adventure is elusive; it can't be found sitting on a couch. Adventure finds you, out in the middle of nowhere, with your pants down.
I've never had such an adventure. My adventures are silent, lonely, a single spark in an otherwise dark world. Adventure, for me, is meeting someone else's gaze. It's footsteps outside your door as you furiously turn off the lights and shush the person on the other end of the phone. Adventure is holding hands, or the first breath after a first kiss.
But adventure is such a loose term, and nowhere in its various definitions does it ever point out that adventure is happy. Adventure can be the act of letting go, or being let go. It can be the tears that you try and cry silently while still begging someone can hear you. Adventure is the courage to look up at the sky and ask a question you'll never really hear the answer to.
Adventure finds you. Life finds you. In your darkest or brightest moments, with a smile or with a sob. We are always living, and it is always an adventure. Maybe that's why it's such a loose term.
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Alright, that's it for right now! I hope you enjoy (if there's anyone out there, anyway).
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