Meeting someone when you’re away is wonderful. It’s great because you don’t feel alone, you have someone to rely on, go home with, travel with, maybe even carry your bag; which is basically the worst thing about being away.
Meeting someone at home you arrange a date, you hang out, go to work, stay at home have another date, maybe stay over, then chill with your friends, see your family, work some more, then maybe hang out again.
Meeting someone when you’re travelling, you hang out, sleep together, wake up, spend all day together, stay with each other, hang out again all day, eat breakfast, lunch and dinner together everyday, shower together, get drunk together, travel everywhere with one another, spend basically every single conscious and unconscious moment in each others company for any period of time long or short. And then one of you has to leave.
It’s sucks because you miss them. It hurts because after that kind of intensity what you feel is very real. It’s frightening because you don’t actually know if you’re ever going to see them again. Which is just plain sad. It’s the worst because you can’t do any of the normal things you would do at home to get over someone.
My personal checklist consists of; drinking at least one bottle of red, ordering a meat feast pizza (and sides) and usually slagging them off to my best friends with melted cheese stuck to my face and red wine lips. Then I like to call my mum and repeat the same process. Mum tells me to pretend he’s dead, I do, go back to work feeling I’ve completed some sort of a grieving process and balance has been restored; albeit with a slight tinge of sadness.
At home you can be low and off your game, and take all the time you need to not feel sad anymore. You can’t do that in a dorm room, or a hostel where there’s shots on the hour ever hour, and if you want to sit in your room then every one will think you’re a boring cunt, and you either have to keep explaining again and again to new people or just be that boring cunt and then you’ve made no friends and you feel more alone, and it’s harder to get back into your stride, and don’t even think about giving me a gin and tonic…etc etc etc I could go on, obvs, but I shan’t.
The good thing about being heartbroken when you’re travelling is that you’ve normally experienced the same level of intensity with friends that you’ve made along the way too, and they help. And it’s totally acceptable to get drunk everyday. And the scenery is pretty ace too.