It was one of those up and down marriages, and there was a huge down entering 2020. But somehow, we stayed together and went back up. —This was probably the highest up we ever had. I thought we made it. I was sure we survived the worst of times, and we can never fall back down.
I’m an eternal optimist. I tend to find a positive in the worst of situations. But I wasn’t expecting this. It was all still so fragile that it was broken by what was supposed to be a positive event — going on vacation.
I felt it the moment we got into a first little fight. It was a tiny disagreement, the kind that every couple has, nothing special. But I knew how quickly that can snowball and how it usually does on vacation.
Maybe it’s because I feel trapped. I can’t take my space. We sit together on a plane, we check into a hotel, we share the room. I’m trapped until the flight back home, and the only thing I can do is ponder my escape plan. And wait to get back.
These situations are super tough. I feel pressure in my chest from the moment I wake up till I fall asleep. I am like a pressurized container with no release valve. I can’t enjoy the beach, relax with a drink, I stop feeling joy. That pressure is constantly there.
But not this time. I skipped the trip. I knew exactly how that plays out, so I chose to stay home. That was freedom, and I couldn’t figure out why I haven’t done this before; it would have made my life so much simpler.
And then I had a week to ponder my next moves. So I orchestrated my getaway by moving out of the place and brainstorming my new life.
A fresh start.