Come what may

I have repeatedly said how I need to learn to find more happiness in life; that I need to give myself the chance to find beauty and joy even in the midst of the most mundane Mondays. Talk is cheap (and I am not) so I finally decided to do something about it.

I took a mini break in one of the most beautiful Old Towns in Europe. I had  a lovely lunch at a restaurant currently ranked #1 in the city, followed by a delightful evening at the opera and a relaxing night at a wonderful little hotel just oozing that Old Word glamour. The following day was spent leisurely strolling down the narrow cobble-stone streets, shopping and lunching. So wonderful, so soul-nurturing. I soooo didn't want to come back.

It was something I had initially planned to do with The Man. But part of me always felt terrified. I never booked the tickets as I feared something horrible would happen. I could never completely count on us still being together. And if the uncertainty of your situation means you can't plan even 2 months ahead... that speaks in volumes.

I decided to go anyway; it all seemed too wonderful to miss. I went with a friend and thoroughly enjoyed myself. Until I got back home and had another epic melt-down. 

I've always travelled alone, choosing the road less travelled. I've explored places people in their right minds wouldn't. I've journeyed on planes, night buses, camels and donkeys and slummed it in cheap hostels. 

Travelling with The Man couldn't have been different. It was about exploring places that dazzle you with their beauty, staying in luxurious hotels where you don't have to worry having all your socks stolen, enjoying fantastic food in lovely restaurants and spending quality time with someone who isn't a Norwegian pot head/ rastafari/ member of the lost tribe/ make-believe-Ethiopian (only in Tel Aviv...)

We had a lovely time on our mini break. It was everything that a holiday should be. And everything that holidays with The Man always were. And no matter how much I enjoyed it all... I couldn't help but wonder just how much more I would have enjoyed it with The Man. 

The dreamy fairytaleness of the city, the romantic atmosphere of the hotel, the dimly-lit restaurant, those tortured hearts of La Bohéme... How I miss him. How I miss the life we had. 

I too want to have my true love. One that doesn't fear declaring how "come what may, I will live you until my dying day". But if La Bohéme and Moulin Rouge are anything to go by... true love always seems to come with a hefty dose of tuberculosis?