“If two past lovers can remain friends, either they never were in love or they still are.”
So my Chile experience didn’t really pan out as expected… the liberation of my wallet and phone putting an early stop to the hunt for Pocahontas. My planned assault on the Peruvian hills was in tatters…
So it was pretty much exactly like every other plan I’d made in the last 12 months, the only difference being that this one had gone awry not due to any clusterf#ck of errors on my part, but by some Chilean dudes punching me in the chops.
Was I gutted? Yes. Could I be bothered being sad and depressed about it? Hell no! I’d wasted far too much of this year wallowing in misery and self pity. Did it help? Not a jot!
Peru was gone… I needed a plan B, and fast! A new card would be sent out, but I needed a secure address. With the help of my phenomenal parents I bought a bus ticket…
… I was going back to see an old flame!
Love… lust… awe… or just a desire to feel welcome, safe and secure?
Love is a tricksy beast. When you’re in it, it warps reality. Blinds you to things that would normally appear clear as day. When it passes it twists the memory… shapes it to suit your desired recollections and perceived truths.
The first time I met her I was blown away. Rough around the edges, but with an elegance and style that were indeed captivating. We immediately began a 3 month relationship that some could describe as ‘unhealthy’, but at the time is was what my crumbling mind needed after the previous few months.
She would show me new places, clubs, restaurants… and in return I would show her my true self… 3 months of exploring each other, intimately. And as suddenly as it started it was time for me to move on, continue south on my adventure, but there were no tears when I left. We partied and celebrated and we separated on great terms.
But 5 weeks apart can be a long time. My time in isolation in the Patagonian wilderness had undoubtedly changed me… would she still be the same?
Whilst on my southern adventure I’d heard stories… rumours. If I’m honest, they were all bad. Money trouble, lying to cover it up, falling out with her neighbours. A bit of digging revealed that it was all true.
The veneer had been cracked. The relationship could never be the same again.
But did that actually matter???
Was she still attractive? Definitely! Did she still know how to show me a good time? Hell to the yeah! Could I accept the crime, corruption and occasional dirty back passage, yet still have love for the old girl? Most definitely!
♥ I missed you Buenos Aires! ♥