Part of me was happy for him to go because its something that he absolutely loves most in the world. I was excited for him to go on so many adventures, meet new people and just experience life. But the other part of me was upset, angry and frustrated at the thought of him going. I literally felt like I was split down the middle.
We had many conversations just before he left about where our future was going, what I wanted out of my life, him his and ours together. One minute he was adamant that he didn’t want to get married, and that he wanted to spend the rest of his life on the road travelling, never being tied down by a mortgage or a job. Then the next minute, he told me he was saving for a ring and putting money away for a future, but at the same time, saving for his trip.
Everything was going to be fine, he knew this was it, his last ‘solo’ trip where he could go out, have fun, party hard, meet as many new people as he could, stay in places that I would never stay in and just be him and enjoy life. There was talk of me going over to Egypt to meet his family when he was there for his cousin’s wedding in May. I was already saving and as excited as ever! I spent nearly every possible second with him the week leading up to him going, literally every second.
A lot of my friends couldn’t believe that he was going again and a lot of his friends were so envious of his travels. I didn’t want to pretend that I was happy about it, and I had a lot of support from my closest friends. One in particular always said to me “I don’t know how you do it, I could never be OK with that, you are so patient” Patient, yes, I thought to myself but how can you not be OK with it? I could never imagine not ‘letting’ him go. Isn’t that part of being in a relationship? Making sure that your partner is happy? Doing what they love? Supporting them?
Coming up to the last couple of days I started to get really sad. I knew this feeling all too well, and it always hits me with only days leading up to him leaving. I cried ALL the time and if I wasn’t crying, I at least had tears in my eyes trying really hard not to cry. Everything, absolutely everything about him and us I was going to miss. I knew it wasn’t forever and before I knew it, I would be back in his arms where I belong.
The night before he left we went and had a couple of drinks with a few close friends as we have done every other time he has left. I didn’t want to leave his side, I didn’t want to stop holding his hand, or seeing his smile or hearing his laugh. I stuck right by him. When we went back to his house that night he still had to pack all of his clothes. Typical, always leaving this until the very last possible second. I cried pretty much the entire time (and tearing up as I sit and write this) we swapped a couple of items over as we always did, I gave him one of my rings, and he gave me his gold chain that he always wore.
I don’t even think I had opened my eyes the next morning and I was crying already. We only had a couple of hours before we had to leave for the airport and still had what seemed like a million and one things to get done. He said goodbye to his parents and then came and said goodbye to mine and that was it, we were in the car heading to the airport.
I really don’t know how I had any tears left by this stage, but I cried the whole way there. I was just so, so, so sad, I felt like my whole world was leaving me. There was no other way to describe it. Once he was all checked in, we had something to eat and then waited at the gates. Was I still crying? Of course. (Do I actually have tears running down my cheeks right now? Yes!) I sat huddled into his arms whilst he gave me a little pep talk about how amazing I’m going to do in the diploma course and once he gets back, we will get an amazing photography business up and running “You and I” he kept saying. A couple of days before we left, he wrote out a business plan. Something for us to work hard at when he got home, something that we could work on together when we got back and set up out future.
This was it, he had to walk through that hideous departure door. I felt sick to my stomach and for the life of me I couldn’t stop the tears. I was so desperately holding onto those last couple of minutes that we had with each other. We held hands as we walked over to the door, I just didn’t want to let him go.
He hugged me. Tight. Tears rolling down his cheeks.
We had one last kiss. He always kissed me on the lips and then on the forehead… It was our thing.
He hugged me tighter and told me he loved me.
We both turned around and walked opposite ways…