This is a trip in the making from 9 months ago. We gather at another couple’s place, enjoying a kids-free, work-free vacation for a few days.
Instead of the cool-moist North West, it is hot humidity this time around.
“Dress like you are back home.” The hosts warned us, the ones from cooler climates.
Yeah, the weather does feel like back home, but our bodies are no longer those of 20-something. Some of our kids are in their 30’s! We are out of the weather that we were born in. The hospitality of our hosts is palatable. The itinerary is great and the companions are something you cannot buy.
At the end, five days feels like five hours. Before we realize it, the Ubers are taking us to our separate flights home. Messages fly into the group chat, promising ourselves another reunion, really soon.
The returning flight is delayed. We sit on the tarmac, waiting for the airline to make last-minute adjustment to bring the plane full of people to our destination.
Like many times during the trip, I stare at the private chat messages on the phone that Wife does not, i hope, know about.
There is so much I want to share with my once-concubine. Visits to various tourist spots. The items in museums that caught my attention. The conversation I had with the six-year-old boy sitting next to me on the Tram. The mass-shootings, one happened two states away, the other close to her hometown. The impending Supreme Court ruling on Roe. She knows what story I try to tell. She understands where my thinking is from even when she doesn’t agree with me. In many ways, she reads me almost as well as Wife does, by only having spent one percent as much time with me.
I can’t type any of these to the message box. She is not mine anymore. Well, she never was but now that point has got through my thick skull. So a blowfish it is.
This trip has been a memorable one. The only complaint is that such nice arrangement from our host has spoiled us. Making it a hard act to follow when we arrange our other travel plans later.
The same is true with women. Once you tasted the best.
I know I shouldn’t compare, but other girls can’t compete. And no. Nobody likes me now so I will go.