So, Jon is not really a “happy Camper”. He is pretty quiet, not too enthusiastic about much, (besides golf, and girls so tiny they look like they‘re 14 years old) and is pretty emotionless. I feel like a 5 year old in Disneyland. I’m excited over everything. The traffic, the stray dogs, the dual flush buttons on top of the toilets. Everything. I think he’s cracked a total of 6 smiles and 3 laughs in the last week. I’m wondering if this is how its going to be the whole time?? And he keeps asking questions about what’s next, how its going to happen and when. I’m in “go with the flow” mode. And I’m loving it.
Ironically enough, after writing the paragraph above, when we got to the airport to catch our flight to Palawan, Jon said he wanted to go check something with customer service at Cebu Pacific airlines. We were talking about changing our flight from Monday 11/23 to the Friday or Saturday before then, to spend a night or two out in Manila. I joined Jon at the customer service area, and I told him that I needed to let him know what was on my mind… That he was not being very fun, and he didn’t seem happy about anything so far… I asked him what was wrong- is it baggage from home? Something bothering him? Just the way he is? Mental health? His response… “I’m going to see what I can do to make me happier in just a minute. I’m going to check and see if I can go to Boracay and chill out on my own for a week instead”. Just like that. 2 hours before our flight, and at the airport. No warning, no talk prior. And no, he did not read the last paragraph of this blog over my shoulder as I typed it about him.
An aside is that I am very expressive, and I wear my emotions on my sleeve. My feelings have subtitles and are in closed captioned for all to know. I must have been projecting just how badly I wanted Jon to fuck off. I didn’t like that he was a cheapskate about everything, especially towards our host family that did so much for us. I didn’t like the fact that he can’t tell people apart from each other. I didn’t like that he was tagging along with me, pretty much pouting and moody the whole time. And I didn’t like the look of his freaking face. This is going to sound mean, but he is fucking ugly. His passport photo looks like a crab is pinching his balls and his face in being contorted into a smile. Forced. Like smiling is un-natural. Ugh.
So, I told him to go ahead, and I thought it was a great idea. I was conflicted in my mind because I felt happy to be rid of the poopy-pants travel companion that was making me sick whenever I looked in his direction (partially because he is so fucking ugly, and partially because he is SUCH a fucking downer)… and partially mad, because it was such a dick-headed and fucked up thing for him to do at the last minute… and partially scared because I was left on my own. Oh well, I wasn’t about to beg him to change his mind, and set the tone that I would give in to his craziness just on account that he would leave me on my own. Fuck that, I’m from New York, and I’m a savvy traveler and tough enough to do things by my damn self. Without a douche bag handicap to drag me down. So far, I feel better being on my own. My inner strength is being tested and I'm ok with it. I need to be challenged, or I'll never grow...
