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  • Writer's pictureA is for Agape

I Said Yes

I love traveling. For me travel means experiencing the unknown. The adventure is not knowing where you will stay, what type of food you will eat, what you will see and what can be skipped and seen the next time.

When I travel, I forego the guide books. I forget to pack at least one essential item per trip. Thats just the way my mind works. And sometimes I don’t even choose a destination until I am on the road. Should I go right or left. Should I follow the main road or meander.

The one rule I have, the one thing I never do, is ask other people’s opinion. I am literally missing the gene that requires me to find a new best friend on the road. I don’t want to know what your favorite overlook was on the way or which Bed and Breakfast just blew your mind. I especially don’t trust the culinary opinions of my fellow travelers. Under no circumstances will I follow the advice of a random stranger on the best restaurant in town.

Ten years ago I married you.

I avoid the social aspect of travel. The thing is, I believe this to be part of my traveling style. I don’t want to stand with fifty other people waiting to see the most amazing sunset. I will find my own, thank you.

So up until I was twenty-two or so, this mode of travel was fine. Until then I had only ever travelled with my parents and sister. I had even travelled completely alone and been fine with it.

Then I met my husband. He is a planner. You know what’s coming. You know I’m going to describe our travel growing pains. About how he met me while I was living in Italy and how we were exposed to our travel differences right along with the culture shock, his, and the prospect of engagement, which I didn’t know was coming.

I was so accustomed to doing it my way, no guide book, no itinerary, no advanced purchased tickets, everything done on the go. And here was my boyfriend, soon to be fiancé, unbeknownst to me, experiencing his opposite, the avoidance of all things planned.

Truth be told, the word ‘plan’ is anathema to me. Anyone who knew me, and up to that point I could number three people in that group, knew that I didn’t make lists, schedule, or foresee.

And through it all, seven days of trains, sudden stops, sketchy hotel choices, and my anti social self for company, my boyfriend of one year still chose to bend down on one knee and propose to me in hastily learned Italian. And true to form, with no plan or itinerary, I said Yes.

In honor of Valentine’s Day let someone know you love them.

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