Traveling has not been a thing for me since nineteen months ago, so there has been no reason for me to consider this week and how the coming isolation might feel when preparing to leave again. So, even though this trip is no different than others, I have been very aware of myself as the departure date approached.

For instance, during preparation and packing I never realized that I so early begin to think about being gone and end up isolating myself because of it. Day One of any trip is never the first day of travel; instead, it occurs several days before I have even packed, when I begin to contemplate the inevitable loneliness. And even though I don’t get paid for this part of the job, it is definitely unscheduled work that I should probably consider.

My pre-trip state was quite different in the past, when I used to anticipate the isolation in a much more negative way. But now my approach is different, perhaps attributable to the last nineteen months of strengthening during the travel intermission.

As opposed to the past, I wouldn’t exactly call what I feel now sadness. Don’t get me wrong, I spend every disengaged moment thinking about coming back here to be with them. But where in the past my demeanor was closer to despondency, today I feel subtly different. Describing it is difficult: empty but not, perhaps absent, yet not unhappy.

There doesn’t seem to be an English word — or even a phrase — for the state I’m in today. But, instead of worrying about it like I might have before, it’s probably best to use my scant free-time just being away and floating in this disconnection.