The Call

"Nikki, are you there?" Jesse said over the phone. It was two and a half years earlier. I'd just finished my six a.m. workout in the city and was walking through Chinatown, en-route to my co-working space. I was on fire. I was high on life. I was totally in my element. It was January, and I was so enthused for the year ahead.

"Nikki," he said again. I could hear the laughter and chatter in the background. He was in a little apres ski bar in the French Alps. After being rejected from the French Tech Ticket program a few months earlier, he'd flown to France anyway for a ski trip with his mates.

Skiing was his favorite thing in the world. He was the kind of guy who'd spend all day trekking up an off-piste mountain on foot, just so he could ski down the untouched powder slopes for five minutes at the end of the day. I, on the other hand, was more of a chairlift kinda gal. I'd stayed in Australia to nurse my little startup baby. I couldn't afford to take time off, anyway.

"Are you there?" Jesse asked, once more.

"Yeah, I'm here." I felt numb. A tear trickled down my face. A lump was forming in my throat. I looked around. There were hardly any people on the street. I walked over to the stoop of a store and sat down.

"I know it's a shock," Jesse said. "I'm shocked too. It sounds like Benjamin's team kept advocating for us, so we got in. I just got the email and I wanted to call you straight away." Another burst of happy laughter erupted in the background as my world crumbled around me.

"When — when do you have to leave?" I asked.

"They want me there tomorrow, but I can't do that. I'm going to fly back to Australia, pack up my stuff, and fly back to France a week later. I just... God, this is hard. This is everything I wanted. I've been dreaming about moving to France for years, but I just — I don't want to leave you."

The tears were streaming down my face now. "I'm really proud of you," I said as I stared off into the distance. A delivery man arrived in front of me. He began unloading boxes for the shop next door. I looked away.

"I'll do anything you want to do," Jesse said. "We could do long distance if you want to do long distance. We can still be together."

"No, Jesse. We've talked about this. If you leave, then we break up. And if you give up this incredible opportunity to stay with me, then you're not the person I fell in love with. So you don't have a choice, do you? You have to go."

After he hung up the phone, I burst into tears. That was cruel, I told the universe. He got rejected from the program, so I let my walls down. He wasn't going to leave. We got closer than ever. And then, once I was raw and vulnerable, you fucking stabbed me in the heart. You broke it into a thousand pieces. You ripped him away like that, when I was least expecting it. Was that necessary? Did it need to happen that way? Couldn't he have left before I allowed myself to love him?

There is order in the chaos, Wisdom replied. Just ride out the storm. The wound is the place where the light enters you.

And I truly did believe that. I really did. Emotionally, I was a wreck. But logically, I felt like this was my time to pursue some dreams of my own, uninhibited by the wants and needs of a partner. Deep down, I felt like there was a journey I needed to go on alone.