Detour Back To Me

Mar 18, 2011 by Sara

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I had planned to go around the world then move back in with my boyfriend of twelve years, only hopefully as his fiancée.  But that didn’t happen.

This trip was to be our escape from the hell we had just experienced and a chance to press restart. After my mother’s death, we were both mentally exhausted and decided to run away.  I went to Nepal, he to Costa Rica. We planned to meet up in Vietnam and then tour Southeast Asia, traveling for 3 months or until we ran out of money, whichever came first.

On the day we arrived in Indonesia, the rupiah hit record lows.  The country was in a financial meltdown and we appeared to be the only 2 tourists on the island of Lombok.  The Sheraton’s airport runner begged us to follow him to their resort by dangling room service on an oceanfront balcony practically for free. After weeks of hostels and a few extra bucks left in our hiking pants we jumped at the offer.

The setting was romantic and perfect but I couldn’t have been more obtuse.

With five days left in the trip, every time he put his hands in his pocket I imagined a ring box emerging. But no little velvet black box materialized, only the clunky key fob from the Balinese hotel we were staying at.

I started to feel like a complete idiot.

Over continental breakfast on the balcony, I asked him what the plan was when we returned to New York.

Silence.

I got up the courage to ask him if he saw us getting married. The look of shock was an answer in itself but I heard him say: “One day. But not, now.”

There was no turning back from this point. My life had just taken a major detour, I packed my bags. He held my hand in the cab to the airport and we tearfully said good-bye, I love you, and I got on the next plane for the States.  Over the next few weeks, we only communicated by email in order to divide up our belongings in storage.

My two best friends, my mother and Alex, were no longer by my side.  I cried, I wallowed, and I had a real good pity party with friends. Then, I crawled out from under my covers.

I had loved him, I still did.  And even though I had thought we should be married, he was right, we should not. Not now…

He knew what I did not yet; I had lost my true self to my grief and the safety of our relationship.  We’d have to risk saying good-bye in order to find ourselves again. Getting married because everyone expected us to was not the answer.

Over the next year, I went back to work and moved into my own apartment.  I reconnected with friends and made a new life for myself.  I took a film class and traveled to the Great Wall of China. While I still grieved for my losses, I saw myself smile and I heard myself laugh.  I focused on my likes and dislikes, I focused on myself, until…one day… there I was… ME… and I promised to never let her disappear again.

Every day I strive to remember the important lesson of this detour, to stay true to myself.  I’m much happier for it, and after nine wonderful years, I am happily married to my best friend, Alex.

Thank you honey, for loving me enough to let me go so I could find myself again.

 

This week’s Red Writing Hood assignment is to write – fiction or non-fiction – about a time when you took a detour. Where had you intended to go and where did you end up?