My friends will often stop, look at me and ask if I'm OK with the engagement being called off. It's almost as if they think I'm pretending to be ok, holding it in and at any moment I'll suddenly break down and be a mess.
No thanks.
It's not that I'm being stoic, numb or I haven't realised what's happened yet, it's just that I'm over it.
When I have to talk to him it doesn't make my heart jump, my mind think back to the good times or any of that guff. I wish him all the best but I'm glad we're not together. Shrug.
So how did I get to my happy place?
Firstly, I'm really good at breakups (potentially a lot better than relationships). I have 20/20 hindsight, an innate belief that I can deal with anything that comes my way and not a spiteful bone in my body. Combined that with legendary friends and a single life that rocks and I'm left with absolutely nothing to feel sorry about. (Especially when compared to some of the amazing people I've met on my travels who deal with a lot bigger stuff than me.) To be fair I was sad for a week or two and crucially, I did a lot of my grieving before we broke up. Two occasions spring to mind, both when I was very much alone.
No thanks.
It's not that I'm being stoic, numb or I haven't realised what's happened yet, it's just that I'm over it.
When I have to talk to him it doesn't make my heart jump, my mind think back to the good times or any of that guff. I wish him all the best but I'm glad we're not together. Shrug.
So how did I get to my happy place?
Firstly, I'm really good at breakups (potentially a lot better than relationships). I have 20/20 hindsight, an innate belief that I can deal with anything that comes my way and not a spiteful bone in my body. Combined that with legendary friends and a single life that rocks and I'm left with absolutely nothing to feel sorry about. (Especially when compared to some of the amazing people I've met on my travels who deal with a lot bigger stuff than me.) To be fair I was sad for a week or two and crucially, I did a lot of my grieving before we broke up. Two occasions spring to mind, both when I was very much alone.
The first was when I left London:
I’ve never heard of Scott, Columbus or Cook freaking out at the beginning of an adventure, and I’m fairly sure that guy who paddled a kayak from Australia to New Zealand didn’t cry his first night away from home, but I like to think that maybe they did, just a little.
He took me to the airport and even helped me with my bags, but I was a mess. I was bawling before I left home and when it was time to say goodbye I was close to having a panic attack. He was fantastic and said all the right things, but I didn’t believe it. I was a complete blubbering, snotty mess and kept asking him to say “it will be alright” again and again, like a mantra.
I felt stupid that I had booked a trip without really thinking it through. That I had assumed I’d be able to deal with whatever came my way but quite simply, I was scared. Scared of the unknown, scared of being apart from Adam, scared that I had once again torn apart my nest, thrown my life out the window and all I had was the bag on my back. I wasn’t quite sure where that left me, or where that left Adam and I. Adam told me that it is just a holiday, that in two months time we’d both be back in Australia. All I wanted at that moment, as shameful as it is, was to fast forward.
I was scared and I couldn’t shake the feeling that this would be the last time that I would see him, that I had booked this trip and put it ahead of him, ahead of us and that I had done so happily without much thought. Did this mean my subconscious had made a decision for me? Was our relationship that meaningless to me? Had I really just abandoned Adam again because of my travel lust? Only now faced with the consequences did I really analyse what I was doing. Why did getting on this plane feel so finite?
I was scared and I couldn’t shake the feeling that this would be the last time that I would see him, that I had booked this trip and put it ahead of him, ahead of us and that I had done so happily without much thought. Did this mean my subconscious had made a decision for me? Was our relationship that meaningless to me? Had I really just abandoned Adam again because of my travel lust? Only now faced with the consequences did I really analyse what I was doing. Why did getting on this plane feel so finite?
I told him to walk away so I could go because I didn’t feel strong enough to walk away from him. But when he turned to leave I didn’t wait to watch. I turned and headed for the gate with the thought in my mind “don’t look back.”
I contemplated asking the nice man at passport control if I was doing the right thing.
The second was my last day in the hills of Nepal:
I was utterly exhausted. My legs hurt with every step, my back ached and my blisters rubbed. I was out of breath. I struggled to keep my breathing constant but at the same time I was chocking on the cold air. I had started off full of anger but less than an hour of hiking up this steep hill my anger had turned to an emotional mess. Outside was a physical struggle, inside was an emotional one. The conversation with Adam this morning had made me confused. Had I made the right decision in going on this trip? Had I completely destroyed out relationship? Did he still love me? Did I still love him? It was hard to answer as the picture of Ads in my head had gone blurry. Who was he now? I couldn’t remember the man I had loved and now there was a cranky guy on the phone, who didn’t want to hear anything I had to say. The sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach made me stop answering the phone when he did actually call, which was becoming less and less. Yesterday was the anniversary of his proposal. I didn’t have phone reception for most of the day and hadn’t bothered to call when I did due to time zones and exhaustion. I had left him a card but he had done nothing for me. Worst of all, that didn’t bother me in the slightest.
The second was my last day in the hills of Nepal:
I was utterly exhausted. My legs hurt with every step, my back ached and my blisters rubbed. I was out of breath. I struggled to keep my breathing constant but at the same time I was chocking on the cold air. I had started off full of anger but less than an hour of hiking up this steep hill my anger had turned to an emotional mess. Outside was a physical struggle, inside was an emotional one. The conversation with Adam this morning had made me confused. Had I made the right decision in going on this trip? Had I completely destroyed out relationship? Did he still love me? Did I still love him? It was hard to answer as the picture of Ads in my head had gone blurry. Who was he now? I couldn’t remember the man I had loved and now there was a cranky guy on the phone, who didn’t want to hear anything I had to say. The sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach made me stop answering the phone when he did actually call, which was becoming less and less. Yesterday was the anniversary of his proposal. I didn’t have phone reception for most of the day and hadn’t bothered to call when I did due to time zones and exhaustion. I had left him a card but he had done nothing for me. Worst of all, that didn’t bother me in the slightest.
I was sad for leaving Phuleli, not a normal leaving sad, a complete saturation of emotion, a sadness combined with awe inspiring proudness and pity and envy. I was confused with how I felt about Nepal, let alone with Adam dramas on top. I needed support, not conflict and I needed to be warm, clean and resting. My toes were numb, my arms were red, my heart was racing, my mind was muddled and my legs burned. I couldn’t hike anymore! My body knew this, my throat closed up and I started wheezing and gasping for breath. Tears sprung to my eyes, my airways closed, I couldn’t breathe. I’m going to die, I thought. The altitude, the rural location, I’m going to suffocate from stress!
I dropped to my knees clasping my throat, sobbing, wheezing, convinced that this was it. Uttraman, my guide, came running over. He held me, rubbed my throat, gently warming it up and told me everything was ok, I wasn’t alone, He was here for me, it will all be ok. “It will be alright.” That’s what Adam had said at Heathrow.
My stubborn mind kicked in and refused to let this situation escalate. You will not have a panic attack here Corinne, that is completely ridiculous and out of the question! Stop sobbing, start breathing. You are in control. You will NOT have a panic attack. You will not suffocate in the Himalayas!
That bitch had saved my life more than once and she had a point. This was ridiculous. There was nothing actually wrong with me. My breathing slowly returned to normal, my throat opened up and I had calmed down to a quiet weep. I hugged Uttraman who was now rubbing my numb legs to keep them warm. He had dressed me in all of my layers and I was now rugged up warm. I looked around the amazing snow covered forest. I was OK. My trekking pride was bruised but what’s new? My last trekking injury still hadn’t healed from falling into a river.
At some point before the summit my tears finally stopped. At the top instead of a view of Everest there were clouds. We ambled along the clouded mountain top, hoping for a brief view. I realised that this area somehow resembled the British Moors. Boggy marshes, cloud blowing through, short shrubby grasslands and bitterly bone achingly cold. I knew how the Bronte sisters felt, alone in their boggy wasteland. It suited my mood perfectly. There I was, standing on a precipice in life, no way of seeing what lies ahead, wandering tentatively forwards, hoping not to drop off a cliff.
So here's my 6 step guide:
1. Feel: Allow yourself to feel whatever it is that you’re feeling and get it all out. If someone shoots you with an arrow, don’t ask why, pull the damn thing out!
2. Hindsight: Think about it, you knew it was going to happen sooner or later and it really is for the best isn't it?
3. Confidence: Think about all the awesome stuff that you've done and now all the awesome stuff that you can NOW do! FREEDOM!
4. Perspective: Do you really have anything to complain about? You have clean water, that’s more than billions of people in the world have!
5. Compassion: Be kind to yourself, but also be compassionate to your ex. Remember, no one wanted it to end like this when it first started. You have good memories, don't spoil them with spite.
6. Ke Garne? Such is life. You’re not the first, you won’t be the last.
