Maine, St. Louis, and all the states in between!

We drove to Maine. It would have been a quick four hours but we all have bladders the size of peas, so it was closer to five. The trip was uneventful until the very end when I almost wet my pants. Jen asked if I would be ok until we made it to the outlet malls 10 minutes away prompting my “I’m fine!” bark. The site of a public restroom never seemed so appealing. What’s better than a peed on seat and a flickering light bulb?

We poked around some of the shops and ventured to our hotel or inn, can’t quite describe it. It was basically a mini apartment for us to call home a couple of days. Each day of our trip, there was a crisp breeze making the awkward sweatshirts and shorts attire appropriate. Like most of our trips, we ate too much, walked a lot and needed our daily afternoon naps. Each day was filled with trips to quaint towns, taste testing of lobster rolls, which are better at Cape Cod by the way, and we even threw in a walk on the beach and a run (my first and last in about three years). Ogunquit, Wells and York were our three major stops. We walked along the water, crossed the wobbly bridge, listened to Jen’s narration on the trails.

For me, the highlight of the trip was stumbling upon a cow print car. It was red with white spots, had a massive bull horn and most importantly mooed when the horn was honked. Oh, the little things in life! It made us all giggly, and we needed that.

The hardest part of the trip for me was not hearing from Joe as often as I had hoped. In my head, I tried to convince myself that he knew I was busy and didn’t want to bother me on my girly vacation, but in my heart I knew something was off. Since Joe and I would be on our way to his friend’s wedding in St. Louis the day after Maine, I let it go. There was nothing that could possibly bring me down from that excitement. I had been giddy and nervous from the moment he asked me.

I was working from home the day Joe and I were meant to fly to St. Louis. It just made more sense since we had to leave for the airport at 5:30pm and it cut down on the stress and mayhem. At about 2:30, we were updated via text message that our flight was cancelled, which was a bummer but at least we hadn’t left for the airport yet. The next best option was to fly at 5:00am the next morning from Newark and only face one connection in Charlotte. The layover was only a brief hour, but it didn’t really phase us.

I set my alarm for 1:00am so that I could catch a few hours of sleep before being picked up at 2:00am. In a groggy daze, I showered, dressed and was about ready to go when I somehow managed to get my finger stuck in my fan. There was a lot of blood followed by a massive headache, but nothing a bandaid and some ibuprofen couldn’t fix. There was no way I was going to hold us up and miss another flight.

Upon arrival to the airport, our first flight had already been delayed 38 minutes. With only an hour layover, we tried to switch our flight but were told by the ever so accommodating American Airlines employee “you’ll be fine”. Obviously, we were then delayed another 30 some odd minutes. It was like a scene out of a movie – we landed in Charlotte and our connection hadn’t taken off yet. We ran to our gate (which no joke was on the other side of the airport) and by the time we made it to the counter, our flight was airborne. Bye bye.

Trying to stay calm, after all, it was our first trip together and it was not the best time crack under pressure, we swallowed the news that we had been rebooked to St. Louis via Dallas and since our boarding group was last, needed to check our bags since the overhead bins would be full. That meant his tux and my dress had to survive two connections – not stressful at all. Oh, and they couldn’t get us seats next to each other on flights two and three. No biggie. Again, despite the inconveniences, we were on our way and that’s all I could ask for!

Our flight to Dallas was uneventful, but the connection from there to St. Louis was then delayed. At this point, it was almost comical, but we still had hope of making it to the wedding rehearsal on time. We arrived at our hotel and needed to be ready in 40 minutes. Mind you, we had hardly slept, been Newark to Charlotte to Dallas to St. Louis and both had to shower. Our 14 hour journey halfway across the country was grueling, but we made it on time – victory! We google mapped it and could have driven faster. But it was our first trip together and if we could make it through that, it could only get easier, right?

We went to the rehearsal and the dinner to follow and Joe introduced me to his friends. By my first name, not as his girlfriend. It had been such a long day that I shrugged the misstep off. After the festivities, we crash and burned pretty quickly and hard, getting over 10 hours of much needed sleep.

The wedding was simple, yet romantic. Joey looked so handsome in his tux. I felt so special being his date! Nobody ever treated me like this. It was such a monumental step in our relationship. He wanted to show me off to his friends and for once I didn’t shy away from the attention. He was mine and I was his. We slow danced, embraced, laughed, held each other and I felt calm, at ease and content for the first time in ages. We looked like an honest to goodness couple. And we were.

The next day, we cuddled until the bitter end when we had to get ready for the airport. He held me so tight I almost couldn’t breathe. It was like he never intended to let go.

We came back to reality and in the days following the wedding, I didn’t hear from Joe much. I thought little of it, because who would bring someone to a wedding that they didn’t want to be with?

By the end of the week, he broke up with me.

He brought me 14+ hours, 3 flights and a wedding halfway across the country knowing our relationship was over.

I’ve replayed how the best and worst nights of my life were less than a week apart, and still haven’t wrapped my head around it.

I thought he was holding on to me tight forever, but he was doing it because he knew he’d soon be letting go.

My heart may hurt, but I will travel on. Just maybe not to St. Louis.


~ by wanderlust1011 on August 8, 2016.

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