The Beginning

My dad and I spent my last evening in Berlin together. We sat at a low table, sitting in plush leather chairs in what used to be a clubroom, and was now a restaurant.  He told me I needed to stop wasting time dreaming about my dreams. I needed to live my dreams, or accept them as fantasy.  “You want to go to South America? Then go. But don’t wait around another year, while you work a random job waiting for the right time to go. Use the savings you have and go. Go for a month, two months, six months. Go travel, teach English, volunteer, just go! And if you don’t like it, come home. We won’t be disappointed if you come home early, but you will be if you don’t go.” The seed was planted.

So when I came home and my job was gone and Josh was going to Argentina two weeks later, I started looking online to see if I could even find a flight that left around that same time.  Josh and I had talked about me coming, and I made it clear to those around me that I knew he was going to see his friend, that I wasn’t coming to tag along, but that I wanted to take advantage of having a home-base to start from in South America.  He was dating Lindsey, after all, and I wasn’t going to stand in the way of that. They were perfect for each other, I kept telling myself. I would date her if I was a guy. I made my decision a long time ago, he has a right to move on, I reminded myself. He’s my friend Josh. Period.

I bought my ticket for Argentina and drove to his house to have our first face-to-face rendezvous since my return. We had things to talk about. He was going to tell me that he was in love with Lindsey, that we were going to Argentina as friends, that our friendship had been great and all but, after Argentina he would need to take some distance. I was ready for this conversation. I was strong, I was in control. I was also nervous, had a flock of butterflies roaring in my stomach, and couldn’t get there soon enough.