So I took an impromptu trip to Miami with a fling last month.
It was probably one of the craziest things I’ve ever done. I literally took my hastily packed bag and went off to Miami…on a random Saturday with some guy I was seeing, like it was no big deal.
The thing is, things got weird when we got back.
It was like we were two different people while we were there. We shed our insecurities, fears, and inhibitions for the weekend, and became our alter egos.
In other words, we got too close too fast. We hardly knew each other, yet we were in another country, completely dependent on the other. We became our alter egos because we wanted to mesh well. We wanted to control the ugly parts of our personalities that would repel us from one another. So we became more care-free and agreeable.
And then we got sick of each other. We got sick of ourselves. We missed our actual selves, ugliness included. Pretending to be nicer/more fun/more spontaneous became exhausting. Being “on” all the time was exhausting. I felt naked. I barely knew him.
So when we got back, we fell out of touch. I’m not kidding when I say that he dropped me off at home, we kissed goodbye and that was the end of it. I didn’t bother calling or texting him, and he didn’t bother getting in touch either. It was one of those mutual things where both parties just silently agree to pretend nothing ever happened. In the words of Don Draper, “This never happened. It will scare you how much this never happened.”
I do suspect he’s been avoiding me (for no good reason, really). He doesn’t really hang out with our group as often as he used to. Though the few times he was there, we both acted nonchalantly. It’s kind of hilarious that there’s a huge elephant in the room and nobody knows. None of our friends know about the trip–at least, none of them heard it from me.
He’s the strong silent type so I doubt he would have said anything. Even if he did, nobody would believe him. It’s so out of character for me. Plus, I didn’t show much interest in him in front of our friends. It would definitely sound like a desperate lie.
I remember the trip fondly, and I feel like I can check “do something spontaneous with reckless abandon” off my bucket list.
The moral of the story is: Do something crazy, have fun, and don’t have any expectations.