I have always dreamed about traveling the world with the love of my life. Unfortunately, he hasn't yet appeared, so now I'm doing it with my best friend, Camila. But when she suggested I join them in July for the remainder of the summer, I pounced at the opportunity. At the time, I had also been living abroad, hopping around in different countries, but making the journey solo. God knows how many foreign meals I'd experienced silent in a crowded room, staring into the abyss β the invitation came at just the right time.
I've known Camila since the sixth grade when we were sat next to each other, and our friendship was brought full circle when I booked a monthly Airbnb in the building right next to hers. Spending extended bouts of time with my friends and their romantic partners wasn't new territory for me. In fact, in May , I moved in with Monica and her girlfriend for a month in their guestroom in Miami because I needed a change of scenery.
Running away with close pals and their significant others wasn't something you needed to convince me to do; I wasn't about to stop making memories with people because they already had a plus-one.
She sat next to Tyler, both of them across the table from me. Their housekeeper made us salmon, rice, and veggies, one of my favorite dishes. Camila expressed frustration with something Tyler had tweeted earlier that week. He had thanked his circle of day traders for getting him through the worst professional week of his life, and she felt the emotional support she gave him went unacknowledged. I pointed to the fact Tyler regularly shows his appreciation in real life.
The conflict was diffused, and the three of us continued chatting happily. Though popular depictions of being a third often have us think it would make a person's singlehood feel particularly sharp or lonely, I've never felt this way, nor have I ever felt uncomfortable.
