Anger and 18 time zones

After my crazy trapeze adventure, it was time for my first trip. Friends, family and counsellor warned me that the first trip might be hard. The whole no one to pick you up from the airport and coming back to an empty apartment could be quite hard they said. I figured I was doing great. It had been almost a month and I didn’t cry that much anymore. I was getting out of the house and hell, I had even swung from a trapeze.

One of the hardest things to deal with was that most of the people I worked with were married and were either pregnant or had kids. Most of them were pretty close to my age or younger. It struck me for the first time that there was a very real chance that a family, kids or another husband/mate would not be in my future. Afterall, I was 36 and it had taken me until 33 to even find someone I contemplated settling down with. I tried to hold it together best I could at work but it was incredibly hard.

I got to Hong Kong after a 13 hour flight. Traveling always seems to mess with my sleep schedule and this trip was no exception. I woke up each morning at 5am and would go for a walk along the Hong Kong seawall. Oddly enough, it was the only time I had seen Hong Kong so calm and serene and it was a great feeling. Something about the cool breeze and grey clouds oddly suited my mood.

Most of the past month I had spent angry. Not angry that it had ended, after all that seemed inevitable. The anger was over the fact that he had walked away. Wasn’t it supposed to be me? Over the past nine months everything that I ever believed it was tested and everything that I said I wouldn’t stand for in a relationship had happened. I didn’t think that he had the right to just give it all up and walk away. Without even much of an explanation. I wanted him to feel. I wanted him to feel some of the pain that I dealt with and for him to acknowledge what he did was a very shitty thing. So I’d wake up in Hong Kong in the middle of the night and email him. Not a great idea. My ex was never known for his communication skills, he did afterall end it by just moving out. But when faced with a crisis throughout his life he chose to run. Why did I think emailing him my innermost thoughts would get the desired response? When I came home, I was overwhelmed by my anger, empty house and realization that it was completely over that I fell apart for a few days. So much for progress. Eventually, I got over the anger, only to experience frustration.