Talking to people that I don’t know has always been a particularly strong fear of mine. Obviously, this is something that I am going to have to face up to once I get on that flight and head for the horizon.
After work on Wednesday, I headed to a beer garden with my friend to catch the last dying rays of an early Spring sun. Being that it was sunny, hot and early evening in the centre of Bristol, the pub was rammed. Shortly, two strangers sat down to share our table.
After a while, they introduced us into their conversation. We talked about conspiracy theories, conservation, religion and music. We laughed and had banter. And then we went our separate ways.
It was a meaningless hour but at the same time, it meant everything. It meant I have the courage and strength to talk to strangers. It meant I can meet people and feel comfortable enough to speak freely and be myself. And it meant I can do this. I can take this journey; grab the bull by the horns, step into the unknown and be myself, knowing that I will come out richer for the experience and having met beautiful people along the road. Even if only for an hour.