That Way Around

David and Fiona's spare room in Oregon is sunny. They'd put a large vase of flowers on the dresser and marked three drawers with my name on them, so I knew to make myself at home. I woke up late for the first time in weeks, and I could hear them laughing with their tiny, beautiful new baby. Lola's toenails tapped across the floorboards outside my door, and for a split second I felt peace and warmth wash over me, and I tried to hold on to it for a while.

They'd all come to meet me at the airport the night before, and Fiona had said hey, you don't have to do anything for the next few days except bunk down and get some rest. I know I look like shit. My skin is bad, and I have large bags under my eyes from waking up early every morning just to fit in a few extra hours of missing him. There's a map of the world hanging on the wall, and I lie there in the bed for a while just staring at the impossibly massive distance between Beijing and Portland. It's been a long journey, this separation, and the two cities couldn't be further apart. I know, I know, they're actually quite close in terms of the globe... but I didn't get here that way around.

In almost two months now I've only spent two short hours with him — the man I used to begin and end every single day with — just so we could say goodbye. It's been hard staying strong and I'm exhausted. The worst is over though, right? I'm away again, new city, no memories, China is dead to me, and all my stuff back home is packed up in boxes. Louise had helped me shift them across Dublin, where we'd overshared with the guy at Storage World, Aidan.

"She's running away to America," said Louise, as we unloaded the boxes. "And she doesn't know when she'll be back."

Aidan had nodded and ticked the form: No Return Date Specified. Of course I'd mistaken this for compassion, and carried on talking.

"I promise you, Aidan," I'd assured him. "One day I'll travel the world when my heart isn't breaking."