Vietnam andand Rome

It’s true that people do the most off-the-bat shit when they’re heartbroken. If my boyfriend of six years didn’t cheat on me, I wouldn’t be in Vietnam right now soaking up the sun and hostel hopping with a bunch of strangers I now class as my best friends.

Funny, isn’t it? He had the balls to shag his coworker but not to tell me about it. I wake up to go to work, receive a facebook message from some random girl telling me about what Henry has been getting up to.

Suddenly I want the ground to swallow me up.

And then you spiral. You do the Facebook stalking. What does she look like? What hobbies does she do? Gorgeous green eyes. Long, brown hair. Does contemporary dance and charity work in her spare time.

Ah, shit.

My blood turned cold that day. They say over time the ache in your heart will dull, vanish completely, but the pain only tripled.

Now, sitting in Ba Be National Park, I hold the heartbreak dear to my heart. I can think about the pain without feeling it and when I do think about the past year, about Henry, the facebook text that flipped my world on its head; the agonizing pain that made walking feel impossible, it’s with gratitude. I look out, inhale the dewy air. Basket boats float down the swamp and water swishes, and a sense of accomplishment settles in my heart because back when Henry and I were together I once mentioned solo travel and he laughed. Said I couldn’t even walk alone to the shop. And it was true. Back then I couldn’t. Needed his hand to comfort me.

But people change.