Day Thirteen: Travel somewhere new: Part IWell, everyone. I'm writing this right before heading to the airport with my best friend, Ben. We're heading to Iceland for the long weekend! I can't wait!
Since This Beautiful Journey is also part travel blog, I'm sure you know that travel is a huge part of my life. Since Semester at Sea in 2011, I've been bitten with the travel bug and I can't seem to find a cure. Iceland will be country #28 for me, and I've visited a few of those countries numerous times. This will be my first time in Iceland, but I've heard wonderful things from friends who have been there already. They've told me the landscape is beautiful, and (fingers crossed) we'll have the opportunity to see the Northern Lights (one of my bucket list items!) I wanted to write a two-part post for this challenge item: a before and an after. I'm having some mixed feelings right now. Obviously, I am super excited to explore somewhere new, and I'm thrilled and honored to be taking Ben on his first international excursion. I'm grinning from ear to ear right now and have excited butterflies in my stomach. But this is also the first international trip I'm taking without my ex. Travel was "our" thing. My ex and I were the world explorers in our group of friends and our families. We've been throughout Africa, Asia, Central America, South America, and Europe together. We've climbed mountains and swam in oceans and jumped off cliffs and got lost and ate weird food and watched sunrises together. Our wedding was going to be travel-themed. Our apartment was filled with mementos from our trips, and our decor travel themed and map colors. So I'm feeling a little--weird--doing this without him. It's a little scary even. He and I had our very specific tasks when we traveled. He would navigate and negotiate with locals for buses, prices, etc. I planned how to get to the country, what our budget would be, and the "must do" places and experiences. We were a well-oiled machine, knowing who was doing what, who packed specific items, etc. Now I have to readjust. I have to reestablish how I interact and function in an international backpacker setting. I'm excited about it--don't get me wrong--but it's another "new" thing for me. Another thing to start over. Another thing to learn to do without him. Last night, I didn't sleep much. And I think it was partly because of this upcoming trip and the realization that he wouldn't be with me for the first time. His face and the sound of his laughter and the way his eyes scrunch up on the sides when he's smiling just popped into my brain. I thought about him for a minute, and my brain wanted to think about what it was like to sleep next to him in the past. What it was like to curl up next to him in a new country after an exhausting day of hiking... But I couldn't remember. I couldn't remember what his body looked like. I couldn't remember how he felt when I rested my head in his arm's crevice (that's what we called it, anyway). And I thought, "Holy shit. Maybe I'm starting to move on." I felt a sigh of relief. And then I stopped breathing. My mind shifted to pure panic. How could I forget him? How could I forget what it was like to fall asleep with who I thought was the love of my life--something I did almost every night for eight solid years? I started to go into a full-fledged mental panic attack. I wracked my brain for memories. Over and over and over and over again. Even when I could remember what he looked like, I couldn't remember the sensation. I couldn't remember what he felt like cuddled up next to me. I tried to ground myself, to calm myself. And then the images and memories of my friend, curled up next to him on the couch (something I had thought of as nothing but innocent friendship intimacy at the time) flooded my brain. I remembered how happy they looked and how they laughed together. My brain started creating what it must look like for them to be curled up in bed together in our NYC apartment, like he and I had done for two years. I ruminated on that all. damn. night. I couldn't get out of it. Every time I would calm down enough to find myself drifting back to sleep, my brain would throw that image back in the forefront and jolt me awake. Last night is a reminder that while I'm heading in a good place, I'm still struggling with letting go. The panic of not being able to remember my ex partner indicates (to me, at least), that I'm still holding on to what we had. I'm still grasping at the good memories, of the happy moments, that we shared together. And the idea of losing those moments sent me into sheer terror. Almost like if I forget those things about him and about us, it never happened and we were never in love in the first place (which is utterly ridiculous, I know that). So, today, I take a much needed break and mini-vacay to Iceland with one of the closest and kindest and funnest people in my life. I'm going to do my best to leave this shit in the USA for three days until I return on Monday. If I need to, I'll pick it back up. But three days is my goal. Three days. Travel has always been a type of therapy for me. Not just because you remove yourself from your everyday life or current situation, but also because it allows me to be completely free. It allows me to be whatever I want in this new place and to experience things I never could back home. It reminds me how to be in the moment and to enjoy everything happening around me. It reminds me of the good in people; of the wonderfulness of this world. It re-energizes and refuels me. I'm hoping that this trip allows me to kind of cleanse my soul so that I can have a clearer mindspace and focus when I return on Monday. In the meantime, I have two wonderful friends who have generously offered their time, insight, and stories for guest posts while I'm away. Erin (who was part of my girls' night out and has been my sounding board for a lot of other posts) and Nikki (who was part of my Las Vegas stories and my Semester at Sea roomie) have written posts that really speak to me, and I hope speak to you, too. Thank you, ladies; it means a lot to me that you've shared your wisdom with me (and to everyone reading this blog) in an honest and vulnerable way. I promise to post Part II early next week, and to take lots of pictures! Þangað til þá, Farrah ♥
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