I want to start by asking, “can you imagine..” but I would never wish upon anyone what I just went through leading up to my divorce.
I do however hope one may commit to traveling the world and seeing new cities and enjoying new experiences, it’s not just amazing for obvious reasons, it is therapy for the soul. My first session was the beautiful Van City. 72 hours was nowhere near enough time but I made the most of it.
She was a childhood friend, beautiful, smart, religious, good family, the kinda girl your mom wants you to settle down with. She pushed me to come visit even though our connection fluctuated from strong to intense to almost non existent and back and forth over the years.
She knows me well still (I sert stereotypical male joke possibly). I’ve landed in the evening on a Friday night. We end up going to this small Greek restaurant and catch up over a nice meal. I feel bad for allowing the conversation to steer towards my ex wife, she’s caring but also intelligently and curiously digging, I’m running away from my problems though right now and quickly focus all conversation on her.
I find myself after a few drinks looking at this beautiful girl who cares about me and I clearly just want to get drunk and have a good time in a new city where no-one knows me. She takes me to Charles Bar downtown (awesome place!) that plays old school music. She knows me well.
She’s buys the first round of drinks and shots. A whisky for me and a red bull for her. 2 tequilas. Wait? She doesn’t drink, Wait?! Cheeky smile. Ok, let’s do this!
After a few more such rounds and dancing and getting closer to each other I realise this is what our relationship is going to be like for a few years. Fun, sometimes drunk and becoming close and then me backing away. She shares her secrets of the city taking me on a hike and sight seeing. We kiss at the top of some monument. Sparks fly. The night before I leave she stays with me til dawn before she has to go home. I get a dose of intimacy that my mind body and heart were craving, no aching for, after months of solitary confinement…
Lesson one of travel therapy: you have a deep fear of commitment and will ruin a few good relationships until you can trust again.
Fast forward almost 2 years Later and she still puts up with my shit. Is this how much she loves me? Am I broken still that I don’t allow her to come close or just an asshole using her to fill an emotional void from across the ocean. I think she knows I struggle with this internal conflict as she’s kinda hinted at it. Hell, she’s such a good woman she guides me through my scattered emotions.
She knows me too well. I’m beginning to like it.