Tags
Barcelona, Florence, Friendship, Monaco, Relationships, Travel, traveling around europe, vacation
I took the train from Monaco back to Barcelona by myself. I hadn’t planned on that, but when my friends decided to go on to Italy I didn’t feel welcome. I saved face by claiming that I was tired and wanted to rest before my trip to London in a couple weeks. They promptly agreed, not even making the polite invitation that they knew I would reject. I left for the train station at 8:00 while they sat in our shared room, packing their bags for a train to Florence the next morning. As I walked out of the apartment I could just hear their hushed giggles over the rattling of the wheels of my suitcase against the marble floor of the old hallway.
I walked out of the gorgeous building where we had stayed with friends of Michelle’s and followed the road along the beach. The sun was orange and heavy, about to dip below the horizon but clinging desperately to the sky, the shimmer and heat distending the bottom and pulling it down. The beach was much less crowded than earlier in the day, but a few overly-tanned, topless women were determined to get every moment of sun possible and the evening revelers were beginning to secure spots for themselves. Some early diners were sitting at round tables at the beach-side restaurants, waiting for the slow-moving wait-staff to take their drink orders.
I thought back over the weekend — our endless days on the beach, our trip to the casino, watching Formula One, and visiting the castle — and I tried to figure out what had gone wrong. We had spent three months together, Michelle, Alison, and I, traveling around Europe, sitting together in the back of our classes, passing notes back and forth under the watchful eyes of our large, Spanish professors, trying new restaurants and lamenting the totally unappetizing pictures of food on the menus, marveling over the incredibly low price of leg-waxing, curling our hair and swapping clothes before heading out to the clubs night after night. We were having so much fun. Then, suddenly, we weren’t.
I left the beach and turned into the city to climb the hilly streets up to the train station. Tourist shops poured out onto the sidewalks, postcards and spoons and soccer flags and playing cards piled on top of each other, sending out their siren song to the newly arrived and to those who wanted one last memento before boarding their train. I was still at an age when I liked mementos, when I believed that every day was worth remembering. But I knew that this wouldn’t be a trip that I wanted to remember. Somehow, again, I had ruined friendships. It wouldn’t be the first time and it certainly wouldn’t be the last time. I just didn’t know how or why, or what to do differently next time.
I boarded the nine o’clock train and all I could think was There must be something wrong with me.
You captured a lot of emotion here…confusion, loneliness, and strength under it all — going it alone. Great writing!
There was nothing wrong with you (unless you are leaving out the part where you used their toothbrushes to clean between your toes after a particularly dusty tour). Three women should never attempt to spend any amount of time together. Factions always develop. I applaud you for making it work as long as you did.
I’m with Shiftless Mommie. Although the same even goes for men. My husband did a trip like this after college with his two best friends. They each took turns “cracking” and abandoning one another. It’s just an intense experience, to be in close quarters in a foreign land, away from the comforts of home. Everyone is bound to get pissy.
But now I totally have Night Train in my head
What a wonderful story. You captured it all. I have had these types of occurences throughout my life; especially after I married. Friendships that seemed so perfect and for life. Then, one day they fizzled away and I was left wondering ‘what the heck
happened here’. A lot of hurt; a whole lot; but not brave enough to ask what it was about me that turned them off. I can relate to this so very much. Once again, a story so well written. Thanks for them all.
I want to know the rest of the story……
I (like Robbie) am interested in a part two
What an engaging tale, redefining a moment that was small, but left such an effect of you.
This is some great writing and there was/is NOTHING wrong with you. As the one who inevitably ends up the third wheel, I can totally relate to your feelings of self-doubt, loneliness and sadness. What we have to remember is that three is always a crowd — especially three women.
ok i definitely need more of this story. the imagery was awesome, as was the emotion. sounds like a rough patch and am hoping there’s something awesome that comes from it.
I’m always the one on the outside, so I really feel this. I hope that the rest of the story includes you having the time of your life in London!
Oh man. I don’t think it was you at all. I’m on board with shiftless mommy, in any group. people tend to split into pairs. I hope you still had fun even if you didn’t spend it with your “friends”.
What a beautifully written post. I love how your desciptions add to the melancholic feeling without being like HEY YOU GUYS, IT’S IMAGERY AND METAPHOR. And I so relate to the content here. Been there, done that, also decided against buying the T-shirt. ((( hugs ))) There’s nothing wrong with you.
there’s nothing wrong with you except you are way too awesome
loved how you told this tale, heavy while the wording was light – brought us in to the details without clogging us up there.
Sometimes people just behave irrationally, and you can drive yourself crazy trying to find a rational explanation for their behavior.
I want to shout at the younger you that there’s nothing wrong with you, but I know from my own experiences that I could be wrong. (Bipolar. I do sometimes scare people away. It IS me as much as them.) But I want mostly to recover for you the nights of fun and not have them overshadowed by sadness.