There's a place that all of us have traveled to in our lives regardless of age, race, religious beliefs, or economic status. Some of us go there often and stay a long time, often too long, and forget what reality is like back home. These people are the perma-vactioners that set up residence and refuse to book a return flight.
Others go back on weekends, holidays, and lonely nights. These people are more like the regular tourists.... they visit, see the familiar sites, and then either eagerly or begrudgingly get back to their day to day lives. The regular tourists know that this place isn't going anywhere. It will always be there, waiting to run up debt on over-priced souvenirs and hangover-inducing beverages that aren't good for your health. Yes, The Land Of The What If's is a popular place that will never go out of style, but it will destroy a lot more than just your wallet if you go there too often and stay too long.
I have met several perma-vacationers that live in The Land Of The What If's. They go there at first after a tragedy of some sort and try to figure out what when wrong. What if that person had never left them, what if they had done things differently, what if they had never even met them? Most of us have visited on at least one of these occasions ourselves.
But the perma-vacationer doesn't just visit. They buy a house and refuse to leave. Hurricanes and tornadoes couldn't drive them away. They simply board up their windows and stand there stubbornly in the doorway, arms crossed, telling you to stop warning them about the impending natural disaster. Their homes can be demolished and the perma-vacationer will still not leave The Land Of The What If's. To them, this place... this place meant for tourists... is somewhere that has a grip on them similar to the strongest of addictions. Any attempts to point out their unpaid bills, failing relationships, or missed years back in reality will be met with denial and usually contempt.
We can voice our concern for the perma-vacationers. We can love them, even though it is often very painful to do so. So far off the road, so far astray from what once was their normal lives, the perma-vacationer simply doesn't know how to function without that camera in their hand and daily window shopping trips past the same shops they've seen for years and years. They've forgotten that happiness can be found down the road if they would only leave The Land Of The What If's and head towards other destinations.
The Land Of The What If's is alluring, I'll admit. I've been there several times myself. The shiny promises of what could have been, the bittersweet taste of not knowing is enough to make you want to go back just one more time. The problem is, it's never just one more time. Each visit gets a little bit longer in length and, if you're not careful, you can end up looking at real estate and admiring the views from what could be your next home. The real estate agents are the best in the business.
And it will always be there, like Vegas, ready for the next person to come spend their retirement fund in one weekend. So the next time you visit and a real estate agent hands you their card rip it up, hand it back, and tell them they won't be making any commission off of you in this lifetime.