A Half and A Whole

The last time I wrote for y'all we were coming to the end of the first half of the trip. Not numerically, not physically, not even literally -- but...spiritually? I was posted up in a cute (read: hipster as anything), little (read: quite sizeable) coffee shop in Salt Lake City. Will's friend from Northeastern, who I had just left him* with, had showed it to us the day before. Naturally, I was petrified they would walk through the door at any moment and catch me out. I was also too under caffeinated to think of any alternatives.

*You may have just picked up on the sly mention that "I had just left him", at which point you either wrote it off as a reference to a temporary situation or a casual mention of the shattering of the entire trip and its goals. Well you'd be wrong -- both of you sitting here side-by-side reading this together and arguing over scrolling speed.

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This trip and all of its ambitions hinge on a few simple truths about human nature:
1. one person is lonely and potentially very stupid
2. mo' people = mo' stupid
3. two people still have a high possibility for stupid, but see #2 for the alternative

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Right now we are everything to each other. That may seem like some romantic declaration of love, but if that's case then you've clearly never had one person upon which you rely so completely. Will is my best friend and my fiercest enemy, my fondest companion and my worst date, the salt on my potatoes and the salt on my pancakes -- in other words :  he is my strongest support and my biggest hinderance.
In fact, this dichotomy is just the bread and butter of interpersonal relationships.

Going into this project -- swords poking out from behind our trash-can lid shields -- we knew we would get sick of each other. We knew that no amount of caffeine would be able to prepare the other the be in our glorious presence forever. We would need a break, if only to have something to talk about when we would get back together. This split was loosely set to happen in Seattle -- the official half-way point of our trip (numerically, physically, literally (whatever that means)). This plan was based purely off of my wishes. I was going to be meeting up with one of the boobiest of my bosom buddies and I selfishly wanted all of her time to myself. I didn't even think of what Will would do while we cruised around Happy Hours speaking French and daydreaming of our plans for this coming year.

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We arrived in Salt Lake just before Will's bornday with plans to stay with one of his bffs -- a first as we had been staying predominantly with people I know, or who are related to people I know, or who at one point shared a form of public transit with someone that had dated someone who was related to someone for whom I used to babysit. It only made sense that he'd want to linger in the city. We made a plan -- he'd stay and celebrate his bornday with friends, while I'd go off and explore Yellowstone, Montana, and Washington, then we'd eventually reunite in Seattle.

At first, I reveled in being able to listen to whatever Top 40s or country stations I wanted to without bothering Will and his more discerning music taste. I quickly realized that my Talker tendencies would be my ultimate demise. Even if we share a lot of silence between the front two seats of the Prius, he is always there for me to bounce ideas off of if I want. Now? I was trapped in between one-way frequencies that were maxing out the speakers.

xoxo
X I N A