The farewell trip before our divorce

I want this trip to be never-ending. I look at the scenery in front of me, and fear the moment we’ll reach our driveway, park our Devil’s Red Citroen Berlingo and she’ll take her luggage and head for her new life. I fear the moment I’ll stop seeing long empty roads stretching across different climates and at different hours, because when that moment does arrive, I’ll be going home to an empty bed. A bed without Sophia and her extravagant ways. A bed without her messy hair all over my face, her legs intertwined with mine, and her left arm always reaching for my left hand. She hates being the small spoon, and for twenty two years she’s ruled my world, the color of our bedsheets, and our sleeping positions.

-Richard, are we adding more days to our trip for the fear of separation, or to preserve the beauty of the moment?- She asked me in her unquestionably sassy tone.

She doesn’t care about my answer, she is just making the remark to admit that she’s feeling both these emotions equally, and wants the reassurance that she’s not the only one. I am definitely scared of entering this new chapter of our lives where she won’t cook my morning porridge anymore. She isn't a breakfast person, but she has made it her life mission to prepare a delicious cinnamon and apple porridge for me everyday. She would then proceed to sit by the kitchen counter to drink her coffee while watching me eat. Before leaving for work, she would come up to me, kiss my head and pinch my arm.

Our twins, Phoenix and Natalie, left for university two years ago. Our son went to study acting and our daughter followed her mother’s career path by studying journalism. I will forever be grateful to Sophia for being the sweetest mother, wife and life companion I never dared to dream of.

We got pregnant after our first trip to Italy as girlfriend and boyfriend when we finished high-school. It was on that trip where she said to me that we could be a couple, but that I needed to understand that the option of a happy-ever-after would never be on the table for us. That she wanted to grow old and be able to look back and count her heartbreaks with both her hands. I would laugh at her for being such a helpless romantic and the ultimate personification of a free bird.

So when I woke up that morning in early spring and realised my porridge had peanut butter on it, I knew something was up. Peanut butter was only for special occasions or making up after a fight.

But the 3rd of May wasn't a special day; and our lives had been so dull after our kids had gone to uni, that fighting had not been a cause of concern for a while. I took a breath in and waited for the storm to hit me like a slap in the face.

She looked at me with watery eyes, but with the calmness of someone who knows their mind is resolute.

-I want a divorce, dear.

Arguing with her would have been wasted. I know Sophia well enough to know how her mind works and what she craves and what she wishes for her life. I have read all of her books and understood each of her desires through them. A piece of her soul was in every imagined character, in each of her written words and in every perspective reflected on her pages. I knew the day would come when her life’s purpose of raising two incredible kids would be fulfilled. Her second one, being a best-seller author, had been accomplished over ten years ago, which leaves us with her untapped hunger for romance and the spontaneous uncertainty of where life will take you next, and who you will take with you for the adventure.

I went out of the house with my special porridge untouched and drove to the nearby lake. I sat by a bench and envisioned this trip as our last adventure together, a celebration of the love that we shared and the lives that we led. A farewell to the people that we have been, and the people that we’re yet to be.

We started this trip over two months ago, and left Bavaria with a full car packed with stuff, two broken hearts and the excitement that the phoenix carries knowing it will die only to be reborn from its flamed ashes. We used to take a lot of summer car trips through our twenties. The kids loved spending the entirety of the school holidays in Murcia with their grandma, and we loved visiting new places and finding exciting spots to make love on.

For this trip Sophia wanted to visit all the places we went in through Spain and Portugal when we were younger, but it being my idea, I convinced her to let me surprise her with new places.

-But how romantic would it be to revisit all the places we were so in love in? -She argued

-Because I don’t want to revisit places where you were in love with me and I was in love with you. I want to visit new places, create new memories and give this chapter of our lives the farewell it deserves.

-Who is the helpless romantic now? – she laughed

The supposedly one month long trip had all the highs and lows of an anticipated final adventure. We visited towns we had never been in, drank coffee in exciting plazas, ate local foods and watched the sky from different heights. We played chess in otherworldly locations and drank white wine in front of beautiful churches. Some nights we stayed in magnificent airbnbs, and other times we slept together in the back seat of the car, where we were both uncomfortable but excited to hold each other like the old times, where our car was our safe space and the world outside was just a passing landscape.

I surprised Sophia by taking her to one of our favourite places on earth, a terrace flat apartment overseeing the casco viejo of Porto. With a big smile on her face, she let me hold her hand while walking her up the stairs. I am not one for role play, but for this trip I’d be whoever she wanted me to be. We entered the flat as if time hadn’t passed, as if we were discovering this gem for the first time. Her eyes were hungry for mine and I was thrilled to witness the person she is now and remember the one she was then. The last time we were here we were celebrating the opening of my podiatry practice and the publication of her first book.

I leave our bags on the floor by the sofa and before I can turn around to face her, she’s already tapping my right shoulder with two fingers. I knew what it meant then and I know what it means now. I stay still while she reaches for my jacket and pulls it off me slowly. How lost I have felt, and how uncertain I still feel about the future; it all fades away as I ease into this moment.

Still behind me, she surrounds me with her arms as she unknots my jeans to pull them down. A shivering feeling crosses my body and excites my mind. She undoes the buttons on my shirt one by one while I contemplate the seagull on the window. When she is done with my shirt, she slides it off me as she starts kissing my neck, then my shoulder and my back.

She then turns me around, sits me down on the sofa and starts to undress. Like the ritual we would always come back to, she looks at me with the confidence she’s never lost. I look at her naked body and I instantly get an erection. The dream that is her figure, which has driven me mad with passion and has carried two of the most important things in my life. The body has seen the years pass through it only to make it more beautiful. The body that has held me year after year and has helped me pursue my dreams. I want this trip to be never-ending.

That night we played chess on the rooftop under the stars. She never got tired of losing against me, she was always hopeful that the next time would be the one, her win. Don’t get me wrong, she was an exciting partner to play with. Striking the balance between wise moves and unexpected outcomes. She played chess like she did life. Invigorated by her beauty, the intrusive thoughts of the trip coming to an end made me miss the checkmate that followed. There wouldn’t be a more vivid reflection of where we were at that point of our lives than this game of chess. She, full of the thrill of the months and years after this trip. Me, melancholic about my remaining days to come. I wasn’t just scared of life without her, but rather life in general. The repetition of waking up to go to work, driving to the practice and back home again, where now Sophia wouldn’t be waiting for me with a glass of red wine and a genuine urge to hear about my day.

Since we decided to extend our trip, every day we wake up and get in the car to drive to our next location. Every day we get a coffee on the way and let the day's flow take us to the next place where we spend the night. I was so excited to get up in the morning and jump in the driver's seat. I wasn't sure of anything much at this point, but the certainity of the sunrise routine helped me become someone who is optimistic about their future. But by the time we would arrive at our next stop, I would be full of dread, pure sadness and shackled by the constant ticking of the clock.

-Are you worrying again? -She whispered

-You just seem to be so excited about the future. And I am excited for you too, I want nothing more than your happiness but I can’t seem to let go of the beauty of driving with you through these incredible landscapes.

She squeezed me extra hard and told me about all of the exciting things that I had waiting for me on the other side. She talked about the sunrises I would experience on my own, and the sunsets I would explore with other people. She told me about the days where I would look back on these twenty years and how I would smile knowing everything we had achieved.

I want this trip to be never-ending. Despite knowing that this is the best decision to move forward and come unstuck, despite the pain of becoming separated from the one thing that I know to be for certain, my love for Sophia and my children.

I want this trip to be never-ending. Despite the promise of a bright and exciting future where I get to be a different Richard to the one I have known and been, and despite the chance to see my wife really happy and excited about her upcoming experiences.

We park off the road near a forest four hours away from our home. We’re both tired of driving and we want to nap before arriving home. I look at the nature around me, now very familiar, and I sigh at the feeling of sadness that overwhelms every inch of me. No more long drives without a clear destination. No more badly rolled cigarettes that Sophia makes so carefully. No more inside driving jokes that no one else would get. No more long silences that comfort my soul and enrich my mind. No more Sophia dancing around the co-pilot’s seat and putting her feet up.

We sit on top of the car with a few blankets and stare at the stars together while Patti Smith’s ‘’Because the night belongs to the lovers‘‘ sings off the radio. We kiss and have sex in the freezing cold, our hearts warm like the first time we undressed and discovered the unvierses contained within our bodies. As soon as the sun starts to come up, we start the car and drive home.

I want this trip to be never-ending