“Yep. I don’t think it was meant to be.”
“Oh. Uh, okay.”
Judging by his surprised tone, he thought I’d have a more emotional reaction. He’s never had a big ego problem that I’m aware of, but I know a man who thrives on the upper hand when I see one.
Sorry, bud. You can’t bask in my nonexistent sulking.
Unbothered, I adjust the strap on my shoulder that’s attached to the camera hanging at my side and turn to walk the short distance back to my car. With the sun finally dipping below the horizon, I should probably quit scouting shots and get back on the road.
Jonathan squints as the mountain range now fills the space behind me. “I thought you were on some sunny island off the Gulf this week.”
I wait to reply until I reach the driver’s seat and shut the door, finally blocking out the white noise of the incoming storm. The stand on the dash clips around the sides of my phone, and my hands move instantly to cup around my mouth, searching for warmth.
“I was. I left yesterday to come up north.” I don’t know why I’m bothering to explain the details of my travels to him. It’snone of his concern anymore. “I should get going. Best of luck to you, Jonathan.”
“Oh, thanks. You too. So, this is it, then,” he suggests.
With not much else to say, I nod.
I’m not adverse to sticking it out through the tough times and making compromises for someone I care about.
I’d fight for love.
Bare my soul and ask him to stay.
Run to him and fall into his arms while pleading for another shot.
But I am not in love with this man, that much I know for certain. If I were, I’d be crying right now.
My index finger hovers over the circular red button at the bottom of the phone screen. Before pressing it, the corners of my mouth lift into a soft smile.
“Goodbye, Jonathan.”
“Bye.”
I let out a deep sigh and flip down the visor above me to apply some balm to my dry lips caused by this cold weather. Studying the look on my face, I search for a hint of sadness. It’s barely there, but it’s not because of Jonathan specifically.
I’d rather have someone along for the ride instead of micromanaging where and how I choose to spend my time like he did.
I’d rather have someone who doesn’t need a magnifying glass and a large print manual for navigating the female anatomy too, but that’s another can of worms.
No, the lingering dejection is because at almost thirty years old, I was looking forward to finding balance in my life. Sure, I adore traveling and making waves with my job. But in the pockets of silence between jobs with no place or person to return to, the mundanity of my lifestyle has begun to feel more lonely.
I close the visor, pull on my seat belt to buckle up, and then crank up the heater. A surge of adrenaline courses through my body as I scroll to the maps app on my phone, resuming the previously saved destination. The familiar feeling of excitement and adventure is the exact reason I choose to travel as much as I do.
New places to capture around every corner.
Appreciating the mountain range in front of me, I take advantage of the reminder of how grateful I am to still have the beauty of another stunning landscape and a blossoming career that takes me there. It’s the perfect life, even if I’m single. I don’t need a man in order to recognize that.
I smile, rubbing my thumb along the soft leather steering wheel cover.
Ambition and chronic wanderlust pair perfectly together, if you ask me. Jonathan couldn’t see it that way, and I guess that’s okay. Someone else will. This is the life for me, and I’m going to stop forcing potential romantic relationships that don’t fit into that picture.
Passing the trailhead sign, I gingerly press the gas pedal and pull back out onto the highway. The amount of snow on the ground isn’t too concerning yet, but it seems to steadily increase with every passing second.
I grip the steering wheel as the wind howls loud enough to nearly drown out the softly playing music through the speakers. Swallowing hard, I focus on the painted lines on the road, hoping that this last stretch of highway will miraculously stay clear enough for me to make it to the hotel.
Ten miles into the final leg of my journey, the check engine light starts blinking, and I realize the storm is no longer my biggest concern.
