A Long trip Alone.

It was around 9:00 PM when we were scrounging around inside the shed. I can’t even remember what we were searching for, summer tire, my cross-country bike, perhaps? The moving truck wasn’t even close to full, but whatever item it was in that backyard shed on Ogden Road represented the last physical evidence of that part of my life. Five years in fact. The side gate was left open for ease of accessing the moving truck and so the neighbours were able to easily peek into the yard. “You guys are moving!?” They quite ecstatically observed. “Ah, well, one of us is...” Dusk didn’t serve well enough to protect their surprised and uncomfortable reactions as the realization hit them. Perhaps it was my embarrassment that I could see mirrored in their faces.

We were at work scrolling through a colleague’s phone when her add popped up on the local town classified. She’s selling everything. Two couches, a saddle, a Carhart Jacket, the kitchen table and the definition of domestication: the Kitchen Aid. We were all asking, where was she was going?

It was my little sister who gracefully informed my family and friends that my relationship status turned to single, and I really appreciated that gesture. In the small town that we grew up in, she answered all of the questions around my heartbreak and what turn of events lead to the demise of my relationship and my oh so secured future. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t tell the town that raised me that all they desired for their children, including my sisters and I, and all that they had worked towards for themselves - the committed relationship, the two bedroom house, the two dogs - wasn’t what I wanted. I didn’t want to see their reactions as they too came to realize the future of security, a ring, a white dress and perhaps a positive pregnancy test, or two, that I was giving up.

She’s a few years younger than me, the girl with the add posted online selling the entirety of her life, possession by possession. Previously she spent some months in Australia and with that, as all travelers do, four weeks in Thailand. We had beers one night as I picked her brain on where she went in Thailand and she provided me with some ideas for my Asian Adventure. At the pub we swapped travel tales of Oz and South America and what traveling did for us and did to us. 

In between talking about her eight or so months in the Outback, she told me about her purchased farmhouse, two horses and long term boyfriend. During a few run-ins in town, I even thought I glimpsed the glitter of an engagement ring. The heaviness on women’s left hand is something I’ve recently been keeping track of; I wanted to know if the weight was felt on their hearts, too. That night, over beers in a rundown pub, her ring finger was naked and she seemed feather light. The only glitter came from her eyes. We never talked about her steady job at a reputable company, but both of us knew she was taking it for granted and quickly burning bridges. 

Choosing to give up the comfortable routine for this nomadic lifestyle was one of the biggest life decision’s I’ve ever made. And as T-Swift questions, "Wondering if I dodged a bullet or just lost the love of my life?". Packing up the entirety of my life, possession by possession, most of which still remain in their boxes in the rafters of my mom’s garage, was the beginning of opting for travel over love. I’ve sacrificed so much of who I could have been, and I’ve always been honest with this blog, at times, this life of mine can be a long trip alone. 

Right before I left rumors circulated that she’d ended her relationship and I knew a month or so before hearing this that she was no longer employed. I ran into her at a grocery store and gave her a sloppy, knowing hug. She confirmed that her relationship status turned to single. In the small town that she grew up in, she answered all of the questions around her heartbreak, but she didn’t need to tell me what turn of events lead to the demise of her relationship and her, oh so secured future. I knew that ultimately it was the craving of a Nomadic Lifestyle. And with that, she chose travel over love.

For me, it one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever made. It was also the most invigorating and the most empowering. I’m living life exactly how I want. And although the idea of a log cabin on a plot of land with a boy and a garden of my very own sounds incredibly tempting, there’s the Merry Blueberry Farm in Ontario owned by Arlene, I met during a meditation retreat in Thailand, and I want to check out for a season or two. Spain is calling my name, specifically the Camino. London (Bristol), too. Then there’s New Brunswick. And on and on. 

I hope she gets enough value from selling the entirety of her life, possession by possession, to get the hell out of her small town and all those questions of curiosity and care that surround and stifle her. Once you choose the long trip alone the options get simpler: Southeast Asia or South America, Ontario or New Brunswick, Travel or Love?

Kirstin

Advice from a blue eyed small town girl.