I opened my eyes and looked up.
"Did you ride straight here?" he asked with a bit of shock.
“Yes, actually. I did,” I said with a sense of accomplishment.
He had been stopping at every single little temple along the way asking the monks if they'd seen a “small curly brown girl.” And that's what had taken him so long. We laughed for a moment and I couldn't help but feel good that he'd been bothering to look for me, that he'd had concern. (Of course given that I'd practically gone into cardiac arrest the day before, his concern was understandable.) We rested on the side of the road in the shade for a while. It was the most comfortable I’d felt with Burma Boy since I arrived in Thailand 5 nights earlier. Maybe it was because I hadn’t waited around for him, because I’d taken some initiative and done something on my own without worrying about what he wanted or what he thought. But for whatever reason, we sat there in comfortable quiet for a while before we headed back on our way.
Burma boy guessed that we had another 20 minutes to go. I felt great relief in the knowledge that the end was near, and we got back on our bikes and rode. 20 minutes turned into 30 and about an hour later, after a stop at a gas station to fill my depleting tire, we arrived at the bike store where we’d started 2 days ago. Burma Boy asked me if I wanted to ride to see more cave temples with him. I didn't tell him that I thought he was nuts - that we'd been out since 9:30 that morning. I simply said that I appreciated the invitation, but that I was going to pass. I had learned my lesson once. I was going to do things EXACTLY the way I wanted to. Which was to NOT ride a bike anymore or look at any more temples. While superhuman haggler went to exert MORE energy in the blazing hot sun, I opted to go back and sit in the pool and pretend, just for a MOMENT, that I was on vacation. My body refused to move anymore.
I took a taxi back to the hotel. First things first, I showered. Then I dragged my limp legs to the pool and sat motionless in awe of the events of the past 5 days. It was Wednesday. Was it actually possible that I still had half my trip left? All signs led to another five days of hiking, biking and starving. I sat and pondered the choices I had made, equating parts of this adventure to my life in general. I started to think about the way I was communicating. Had I really been clear about what I wanted or had I just spent time wanting to make Burma Boy happy, even if it was at my own expense? But my brain was too tired to think about it any further. I was exhausted.
After I sat by the pool for a little while, reading and pretending there was some sort of fabulous cocktail in my hand, I discovered that I could email through our hotel. I was shocked given that the country had just gotten access to the internet a week earlier. I emailed a brief note to my mom to let her know that I was alive and OK and another to three of my closest friends. I was elusive with my mother. No need to make her worry about the fact that I was in Burma with a guy that I was finding was not my match made in heaven. I was more candid with my friends. It felt amazing to finally put my feelings on paper to the people who knew me so well. As I wrote, I felt a bit of a release. I was grateful to be able to admit to them that Burma Boy wasn’t my soul mate. At least when I got home, there would be a few people that I wouldn’t have to explain that to. I felt so grateful for the support that I knew I would have. I had spent a lot of time recently being concerned that I was too dependent on my friends… that I liked to be with people too much, that I should be more independent and spend more time alone and deal with my thoughts on my own rather than hashing through them with other people. And as I hit send, I realized I was all wrong. That being a bit dependent on the people in my life that loved me was actually a wonderful thing. That I was so incredibly lucky to have people with whom to hash things through. That I had friends who would love me despite the fact that my fairytale hadn’t come true; I had friends who would love me and be proud of me for taking the risk. I realized that despite the fact that it hadn’t turned into the movie I had scripted in my head, I was glad that I had come because I would never have to wonder. I would never have to ask myself “What if?”
Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle
at
3:22 PM
Labels:
10 Days in Burma,
past,
writing exercise,
yeah...i'm a little bit crazy
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aw, a picture of you and burma boy! i've been waiting for it!
ps- are you watching the sox game? we're playing each other!