Extreme measures

La Candelaria, Bogotá, Colombia

La Candelaria, Bogotá, Colombia

When it comes to dealing with difficult situations, I have always opted for extreme measures. It may have something to do with the way my grandmother tried to drill into my head that a lady never complains, never shows or talks about her feelings, but holds her chin high and handles everything that comes her way.

While I’ve spent most of my life being able to live up to her expectations, learning to divide and conquer my problems and keep my emotions in check, these last couple of years have seen me systematically break down that fabulous front I built up so well for myself. And ever since my relationship troubles hit their crucible almost five months ago, I’ve found myself resorting to more drastic measures in order to deal with it.

I will not go into detail exactly what I’ve done to help myself deal with the emotional torment of my relationship. But I can announce here that I have decided to move to — hopefully — South America to teach English come next summer year, the same time that he moves back to his country. While some may see this as a new adventure to take on because I will be really and truly single once he leaves, and others may see it as a rash and overly dramatic decision made in my current state of mind, a handful of my friends — literally one hand-full — have been able to understand why I must do this.

For the last year and a half, I have let my entire life revolve around this relationship. Many will say that this is a foolish thing to do, and perhaps it is, but I do not regret it for a moment, not only because I have a tendency to put every last shred of effort into my relationships, but also because this is the first relationship I have ever had that made all that effort worth it. In every way except one, he is my match, and in every way except one, our relationship is effortless, almost flawless. He has been the only man to ever give me the emotional support that I always wanted, and to meet me on my own level, where nobody else has ever done before.

So how, then, do I put him on a plane next July, wave him off, and then go back to the life I had before he was in it, a life I no longer remember? How do I remove this biggest and most significant part of myself and live with a void that can never be filled again? How do I live any other kind of life when I have already seen what my life — our lives — should be like, in a place that will only ever remind me of the life we once shared?

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