Just like most expats, I would romanticize Lebanon. I would tell my friends about the fun times I spent there, forgetting all the negatives, and I would suddenly become a poet when describing the beauty of the mountains and the sea.
Just like most expats, I wanted to move to Lebanon, then I didn’t want to, but then I did again, and then again for a couple of years I was convinced I did not want to move to Lebanon. I was financially comfortable so hopping on a plane to Lebanon for just a weekend was convenient. I make money and live comfortably elsewhere and am able to get my Lebanon fix whenever I chose to do so. Sounds like a win-win situation…right?
As the years went by, I started to work on my own and the weekends started becoming long weekends, and then longer breaks. It became a joke amongst my friends whenever I would travel to Lebanon, they knew I would not return on my scheduled date but extend once, or twice, or trice!
It felt like I was living a dual life.
I loved living in Kuwait and life was pretty good there. My family lives there, I have got some awesome true friends… friends that are rare to find and you grasp on to them for life. I was doing pretty well with work and socially, and mom and dad could tell you this – I was rarely every home.
I just can’t explain why Lebanon always had this effect on me. I really can’t. It just pulls me in and I can’t shake it off.
I wished I could have my Kuwait life in Lebanon. That would have been the perfect life.