Lost at 29



As I saw the last suitcase disappear at the check in I was more than surprised to feel a deep sense of relief. Of course I felt sadness and anxiety as well but as I stood there I felt lighter, and physically stronger than I had been feeling for a long time. A fog was lifting and I admit that I was excited to find out what I would encounter in my new state of clarity.

The days that had led up to my departure had left my soul bleeding and my throat sore from talking and crying. Bette was crushed and I, I could only say that I wanted for us to be happy together and for that to happen I had to go away. After what could only be described as a tantrum bordering on hysteria, Bette came back into the living room, kneeled down and proposed for the second time in the five years we have known each other of which we had been spouses for three and a half year. She looked right into my soul and passed on the silent message of never ending love with her eyes. She told me she would wait and that she would come to me when I was ready to be her wife again. I asked her if she could choose between marrying me as I am today and the ‘me’ I was when we first met, which one would she choose?
As only Bette could do, she sat there confused at first, then focused, then struggling and then I saw the slow process of realization pass through her and she turned her eyes to somewhere on the floor. At that point I knew that I was doing the right thing, and that is why I stand here with my hand luggage, which had been meticulously packed by my first, and with any luck, my last and forever. We agreed that in doing so she would be relieved of her duty as driver and we would say our goodbyes in the privacy of our own home.

And what a goodbye.

My body was still reeling from the way our bodies had ensured that we would not forget each other any time soon. I had let her take me over the edge until I was lying there sobbing from sorrow and physical exhaustion. It was the only time since making my decision I cursed my self for finding courage, the same courage that had escaped me time and time again and probably was the main reason I had to leave. I had fallen asleep and when Bette woke me up a little later it was time to go. When I left our bedroom I felt like I was leaving my old sexual identity behind. Not that I didn’t still longed to have Bette want me and I her, but somehow, if or when I would return to our sanctuary, it would be different. We would be different.

We had agreed that we would only communicate in writing, that there was to be no letters for the first month, that I would be the initiator of said letters and that only in case of emergencies was Bette to open the envelope that held my itinerary. But as I saw her in our kitchen finishing up the packing I knew that somewhere in my back pack would be a hundred written reasons for me to come back to her. I looked at her and took her in as she stood there ensuring that I would not be hassled at the check points in the air port, what a beautiful woman. I already missed her. I felt my eyes water and I went to the bathroom. She called out to me, she said that she just had to nip over to Shanes and would be right back. But when I returned to the kitchen I knew that she was not coming back. A note was on the table it said “My darling T. I will stop you if I don’t leave so consider this my farewell present. I am yours today and always. Bette”.

It is strange how not fighting can be the biggest struggle of all and I knew that Bette leaving was an act of pure selflessness and love.

As I sat down in my seat on the plane I felt completely alone for what was probably the first time in my adult life. The relief that I felt only 30 minutes ago had been replaced with something similar to an anxiety attack. My journey was just starting and I already felt lost.