The seven-year itch is when you’ve been married for seven years and start to question whether this is the right place for you. I have that issue, but not with a marriage. It’s with my location. And it’s not every seven years, it’s every seven days.
When I’ve been sitting in the same place — whether it’s on my mom’s couch in Arkansaw or at the foundation stones of the great pyramid of Giza — I start to get an itch. My feet get restless, my mind starts to wander, and my heart craves the wide open expanses of undiscovered land.
I don’t know when it started and I don’t know when it will end. All I know is that I need to keep moving till I find that one place that holds me close and I can call home.
You can follow my journey here.