Miles From Nowhere

So, even though you have broken my heart yet again, I wanted to say in another life, I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.

– Waymond Wang, Everything, Everywhere, All at Once

I had been looking forward to that trip to the desert almost as much as I had been to my trip to Portugal. Then all at once, I couldn’t wait for it to be over. I wasn’t expecting to return to the Bay Area with so much to unpack. 

In the beginning I was amassing all these photos and notes and outlines for a travel blog. Then with That Man’s visit to see me off, and my realizing that he was the only solid thing left in my life, it had turned into a love story. Which, plot twist, turned out to be a breakup story. I still don’t know how to untangle these threads from each other. 

My children do not share my enthusiasm for airports, but we all enjoy taking the train. My son had joined me on this trip from the Bay Area to Southern California and back, so Amtrak it was. On the way down, there had been a couple sitting behind us coughing up a storm. I had just had Covid in Portugal, but my son hadn’t. He has enough health problems as it is. 

There was a little bit of money left in my travel account. Not enough to take me anywhere yet, but it was enough to upgrade our return tickets to a roomette. Nobody could cough on my baby in the roomette. Besides, I wasn’t really up to dealing with people. We made small talk with other diners in the dining car, but mostly we sat quietly enjoying the view from our own private window. 

The universe has a sick sense of humor. I had forgotten that I had signed up for fare alerts, good deals for flights between the Bay Area and San Diego. My phone shattered my peace with a limited time offer reminding me that I would not be having a second stay with That Man in San Diego. I guess it made my budget simpler. There’s always a silver lining.

I had never wanted to live in San Diego. I just wanted to go home, and That Man felt like home to me. It’s kind of funny really, I had wanted so badly to have a home that no one could take away from me. I couldn’t put my trust in any rental. So instead, I put all my faith in a man, who was taken away from me. But of course you can’t steal a person. He went willingly.

I had been so close to leaving him a few times before. He never let me rip the Band-Aid off. Every time I had a foot out the door, he’d give me just enough to keep me hanging on. I was heartbroken when I thought my move to Berkeley would end it, but just when I got to the teary goodbye phase he insisted on a group chat with my mom, until I was convinced we weren’t ending things after all. I was over it when he told some girl he was single in July of ‘21 and then flaked on me that September, but he turned up the heat in October. Every time I reached a point where I couldn’t go on like this he leveled up just enough to keep me. And then he left me

It didn’t feel like it yet, but I knew that breakups are always gifts. I can’t find anything I’m convinced is for sure the source, but someone somewhere first said, “If you get on the wrong train, get off at the nearest station. The longer it takes you to get off, the more expensive the return trip will be.” Breakups let you off at that nearest station. I still didn’t know where I was going, but at least I wasn’t on the wrong train anymore.

Some of my dearest friends are exes and almosts. I reckon the world has billions of people who I should not be in a romantic partnership with. These are the people who I liked well enough to try anyway, and know well enough not to get on that train again. There’s something very comfortable about that. 

The infidelity complicated things. That betrayal hurt more than the usual divergence of paths. It also made it simpler though. I don’t really believe in a preordained, fated, The One. If I did though, I am certain The One would not be the guy who ran hot and cold contradicting himself and confusing me, only to betray me in the end. I’m not convinced soulmates exist, but if they do, my soulmate wouldn’t cheat on me. 

I was sure I had dodged a bullet, but then why did it hurt so much? Normally, I would be able to drown my sorrows in a pint of Ben & Jerry’s and dissect it all with my best friend. That Man had been the bestie I talked to about my love life, though, right up until he became my love life. It was all so bloody complicated now. 

At least I could take solace in knowing that he’s a private person who commits at a glacial pace. These exasperating traits were finally going to work to my advantage. I would have plenty of time and space to process it all. I reckoned if the poor girl could actually stick it out, waiting years for a commitment, and even longer for a label, maybe we should be friends someday. Who else understands how crazy making That Man is? 

Either way, I’d get over the hurt eventually. He and I would go back to being besties just like we’d been before he declared his intentions to flirt with me, before I realized I was attracted to him, before he got things started. I still had no idea what I was doing with my life, but there were more important things that I did know. I was sure that not even this could hurt forever. On the other side of all the hurt and confusion, he and I would be how we used to be before things got complicated. How I wished I could just skip to the good part though. 

And I loved you when our love was blessed
And I love you now there’s nothing left
But sorrow and a sense of overtime
And I missed you since the place got wrecked
And I just don’t care what happens next
Looks like freedom but it feels like death
It’s something in between, I guess
It’s Closing Time

Leonard Cohen, Closing Time