How Hope Travels

… The countdown …

Today I take another small step for myself.

Nine months ago I was about to buy a house and settle into a life with the wrong person for me, in the town I grew up in and had grown out of seven years before. That month changed everything and in that month everything was changed.

I broke mine and my ex’s hearts to move away from a life I never wanted, towards a life I had forever dreamt of.

Two months before my epiphany-moment I had plucked a question from seemingly nowhere and asked my ex if he ever had the urge to just get up and get on the next available plane and go anywhere it happens to be going. His answer stunned me as much as my question had stunned him.

No. A plain and direct; No. Never. Not a single part of his body had this ache.

I had assumed, naively, that each and every single person had this urge in them; it had never occurred to me in the slightest that anyone did not feel as trapped by society and the regulations as I did. I believed we were all effectively victims of a shared external pressure for normality.

I was wrong.

My ex stated, after what devastatingly felt like too long of a silence, that all he had ever really wanted was a career and a home.

More silence.

Even the thought of this conversation now brings the same sorrow-filled expression to my face. We were worlds apart.

His words that broke that silence broke my heart; I take it you do.

He was clearly swallowing a lump in his throat as he said them as I was fighting back tears to hear them.

Along with the realisation that we wanted completely different paths in life came the somewhat more devastating realisation that after so many years together we didn’t really know each other. We knew what we enjoyed and didn’t enjoy day to day but knowing what drives a person, what their heart cries out for and their soul aches for to feel fulfilled in life is to truly know a person. And we didn’t.

During the rest of this awkward conversation my ex said that he would wait for me if I wanted to go travelling, he would still be here, we would still be together, and he would wait until I got back and had it out of my system and then we could get our house. I kept it to myself that if he did this he would be waiting a while. To get it out of my system would take longer than the few months he was thinking.

A few months later our relationship was ended; due to matters unrelated to this conversation and yet including them with the others. We just weren’t meant to be together.

A few weeks after the break up my mind was set, my friends and family were informed, my route and budget was planned, and my dream was on its way to being my reality.

Four months after the break up I found myself alone inside the Embassy talking to fellow travellers about nothing but adventures while waiting excitedly for my Visa interview.

Last month my travel insurance was purchased through another burst of excited smiles and joy, and today I am currently on route to my Uncle’s trusted travel agent to book my flights.

July to January.

Six months travelling around America.

Alone.

And I have never been happier . . .

xxHBxx

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