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I Could Get Married Here (but Didn’t) I Could Get Married Here (but Didn’t)
(about 2 months later)
For our first-ever Love issue, we asked four authors to recount times when love and travel intersected in their lives: Alexander Chee writes about a possible betrayal in Spain. Jami Attenberg recalls how a friendship deepened in Sicily. Sarah Hepola remembers a road — an an uncertain future — in Mexico (below). And Sloane Crosley looks back at a relationship that took three trips to kill. For our first-ever Love issue, we asked four authors to recount times when love and travel intersected in their lives: Alexander Chee writes about a possible betrayal in Spain. Jami Attenberg recalls how a friendship deepened in Sicily. Sarah Hepola remembers a road — and an uncertain future — in Mexico (below). And Sloane Crosley looks back at a relationship that took three trips to kill.
We also have six writers recounting transformative moments that happened while traveling; a roundup of new hotels and resorts for all kinds of relationships, and a collection of readers’ stories of loves found and lost on the road.We also have six writers recounting transformative moments that happened while traveling; a roundup of new hotels and resorts for all kinds of relationships, and a collection of readers’ stories of loves found and lost on the road.
My boyfriend and I had been dating for two years when we took the trip to Mexico. We were both 30, so people grew suspicious. “See you in January, when you have a ring,” said a friend, who had gotten married the previous year. The ages of 28 to 30 were like a game of falling dominoes among our circle, but my eyes were tracking other competitions. I could name all of the writers who published successful books before 30, and I could rattle off the parts of the world I had yet to visit, but marriage was still a distant prospect to me, like planning dinner before you’ve eaten lunch.My boyfriend and I had been dating for two years when we took the trip to Mexico. We were both 30, so people grew suspicious. “See you in January, when you have a ring,” said a friend, who had gotten married the previous year. The ages of 28 to 30 were like a game of falling dominoes among our circle, but my eyes were tracking other competitions. I could name all of the writers who published successful books before 30, and I could rattle off the parts of the world I had yet to visit, but marriage was still a distant prospect to me, like planning dinner before you’ve eaten lunch.
I actually had a dream once that my boyfriend and I went to his sister’s wedding, but it turned out to be our wedding, and I woke up slick with sweat and panicking. I wasn’t certain he was right for me, but I did like the idea of being right for him. Cynics are often romantics in disguise, and my married friend’s joke was enough to release certain fantasies into the air. My boyfriend spinning me around on a deserted beach. Dinner by candlelight, a box creaked open like an oyster shell: Will you?I actually had a dream once that my boyfriend and I went to his sister’s wedding, but it turned out to be our wedding, and I woke up slick with sweat and panicking. I wasn’t certain he was right for me, but I did like the idea of being right for him. Cynics are often romantics in disguise, and my married friend’s joke was enough to release certain fantasies into the air. My boyfriend spinning me around on a deserted beach. Dinner by candlelight, a box creaked open like an oyster shell: Will you?
We began our 10-day vacation in Mexico City, a sprawling metropolis of untapped beauty, where we promptly went to the bar. The tequila came in tall glasses that resembled test tubes, and the custom was to sip the liquor and savor the nuance. Until then, tequila had been the kind of bad idea someone pulled off a shelf at 1 a.m., and we used other verbs to describe what happened next: Slam, guzzle, shoot. But slowing down felt adult, sophisticated. My boyfriend announced that when we returned to Dallas, he wanted to open a bar called Correct, where all of the liquor would be served according to its origin country. Chilled Russian vodka, German beer never served ice-cold. He was an M.B.A. student who liked to brainstorm concepts for bars, which suggests how often we were sitting in one.We began our 10-day vacation in Mexico City, a sprawling metropolis of untapped beauty, where we promptly went to the bar. The tequila came in tall glasses that resembled test tubes, and the custom was to sip the liquor and savor the nuance. Until then, tequila had been the kind of bad idea someone pulled off a shelf at 1 a.m., and we used other verbs to describe what happened next: Slam, guzzle, shoot. But slowing down felt adult, sophisticated. My boyfriend announced that when we returned to Dallas, he wanted to open a bar called Correct, where all of the liquor would be served according to its origin country. Chilled Russian vodka, German beer never served ice-cold. He was an M.B.A. student who liked to brainstorm concepts for bars, which suggests how often we were sitting in one.
Bars were our safe havens. I always felt connected to him when we were nuzzled in those vinyl booths, under dim lighting, maybe because we could literally see eye to eye. He was tall and lanky, while I was short and curvy, and sometimes I caught a glimpse of us while we were walking, and we looked like mismatched glassware, a champagne flute with a snifter. A bar dissolved the differences between us, though. A bar always felt like being held.Bars were our safe havens. I always felt connected to him when we were nuzzled in those vinyl booths, under dim lighting, maybe because we could literally see eye to eye. He was tall and lanky, while I was short and curvy, and sometimes I caught a glimpse of us while we were walking, and we looked like mismatched glassware, a champagne flute with a snifter. A bar dissolved the differences between us, though. A bar always felt like being held.
We flew to a small village on the Pacific Coast called Mazunte. The weather was an immaculate 80 degrees. We ate lunch at a beach grill that served fish tacos, and I nudged my bare feet into the sand, making tiny mountains with my toes, and then we headed toward the shore, the nervous part where we had to reveal ourselves.We flew to a small village on the Pacific Coast called Mazunte. The weather was an immaculate 80 degrees. We ate lunch at a beach grill that served fish tacos, and I nudged my bare feet into the sand, making tiny mountains with my toes, and then we headed toward the shore, the nervous part where we had to reveal ourselves.
He was the first in the water. I sat on a towel and watched him splash around like a little boy. “It feels amazing,” he assured me, and I waited until strangers had stopped passing, and then I took off my top and the little gingham skirt that hid the heartbreaking part of my thighs, and I hustled out in my one-piece fast enough that maybe nobody saw me. Whenever I allowed myself to return to water, I was overwhelmed by how much I had missed it. Out on dry land, I felt hollow in some indescribable way, but the water connected me to something larger than myself. As the waves gently rocked me and I stared up at the open sky, I wondered why my soul had felt so half-empty before, why I kept frantically trying to fill it.He was the first in the water. I sat on a towel and watched him splash around like a little boy. “It feels amazing,” he assured me, and I waited until strangers had stopped passing, and then I took off my top and the little gingham skirt that hid the heartbreaking part of my thighs, and I hustled out in my one-piece fast enough that maybe nobody saw me. Whenever I allowed myself to return to water, I was overwhelmed by how much I had missed it. Out on dry land, I felt hollow in some indescribable way, but the water connected me to something larger than myself. As the waves gently rocked me and I stared up at the open sky, I wondered why my soul had felt so half-empty before, why I kept frantically trying to fill it.
My boyfriend and I became playful that afternoon, which was rare for us. We usually got that way only after a night of drinking. I kept leaping on his back, and he would cart me around, diving into the waves as I squealed with delight. I called him my tortuga, because the area was known for its sea turtles. “Tortuga! Mi tortuga!” I would howl into the wind. And I thought: A person would be lucky to spend a life with this man. It was my goal back then — to appreciate what I already had.My boyfriend and I became playful that afternoon, which was rare for us. We usually got that way only after a night of drinking. I kept leaping on his back, and he would cart me around, diving into the waves as I squealed with delight. I called him my tortuga, because the area was known for its sea turtles. “Tortuga! Mi tortuga!” I would howl into the wind. And I thought: A person would be lucky to spend a life with this man. It was my goal back then — to appreciate what I already had.
That night, we got lost on the way to dinner. We ended up on some stone pathway that climbed into a leafy terrain, following signs that were definitely not for the place we read about in the guidebook. I was starting to get snippy when we popped out into the most intimate restaurant on an oceanside cliff. The whole place felt like a secret. We were greeted by a good-looking man whose native language was Spanish, though he spoke to us in a chummy English. He explained that he owned the place with his Swiss wife, and he gestured inside to a thin, casually elegant blonde before returning to his cocktail and his paperback.That night, we got lost on the way to dinner. We ended up on some stone pathway that climbed into a leafy terrain, following signs that were definitely not for the place we read about in the guidebook. I was starting to get snippy when we popped out into the most intimate restaurant on an oceanside cliff. The whole place felt like a secret. We were greeted by a good-looking man whose native language was Spanish, though he spoke to us in a chummy English. He explained that he owned the place with his Swiss wife, and he gestured inside to a thin, casually elegant blonde before returning to his cocktail and his paperback.
“That guy has the life,” my boyfriend said, staring at the pretty Swiss woman as she glided around the interior, and I agreed, but I had that sinking feeling I got whenever his eyes settled too long on another woman, like I was the floppy puppy dragged out of a carnival by the kid who had his heart set on the lion.“That guy has the life,” my boyfriend said, staring at the pretty Swiss woman as she glided around the interior, and I agreed, but I had that sinking feeling I got whenever his eyes settled too long on another woman, like I was the floppy puppy dragged out of a carnival by the kid who had his heart set on the lion.
I was drunk by the time we got back to our hotel. The ocean was empty, dark and churning, and I remembered the voluptuous sensation of the waves from earlier that afternoon. I stripped off my clothes and ran naked toward the ocean.I was drunk by the time we got back to our hotel. The ocean was empty, dark and churning, and I remembered the voluptuous sensation of the waves from earlier that afternoon. I stripped off my clothes and ran naked toward the ocean.
“You’re crazy,” he said, but I thought I had finally gotten it right. I liked the midnight version of myself, the one who wasn’t so flinching and scared, the one who sprinted straight into the open mouth of adventure.“You’re crazy,” he said, but I thought I had finally gotten it right. I liked the midnight version of myself, the one who wasn’t so flinching and scared, the one who sprinted straight into the open mouth of adventure.
“Come on.” I waved him toward me.“Come on.” I waved him toward me.
He unbuckled his jeans with a look of grim resignation and folded them on the sand. “I have no idea what the hell is in this water,” he said, his pale skin glowing as he marched toward me. I kissed him for his sportsmanship, and I leapt on his back again. “Tortuga! Mi tortuga!” I yelled, but he wasn’t laughing this time. He was scanning the dark waters with a pained look on his face. It’s strange how one person’s paradise can be another person’s nightmare. Eventually, we walked back onto the shore, and we made out while lying on the wet sand, the tide crashed up against us like we were in a freaking romance novel. But afterward, I still felt pouty that he hadn’t played my game. Drunk me was rarely happy with the things she had. Drunk me liked to rummage around the cabinets looking for more.He unbuckled his jeans with a look of grim resignation and folded them on the sand. “I have no idea what the hell is in this water,” he said, his pale skin glowing as he marched toward me. I kissed him for his sportsmanship, and I leapt on his back again. “Tortuga! Mi tortuga!” I yelled, but he wasn’t laughing this time. He was scanning the dark waters with a pained look on his face. It’s strange how one person’s paradise can be another person’s nightmare. Eventually, we walked back onto the shore, and we made out while lying on the wet sand, the tide crashed up against us like we were in a freaking romance novel. But afterward, I still felt pouty that he hadn’t played my game. Drunk me was rarely happy with the things she had. Drunk me liked to rummage around the cabinets looking for more.
Our last stop was Oaxaca City. We took a winding overnight bus and arrived bleary-eyed to a quaint hotel door still locked at 8 a.m. The bus had been my idea, but it was much worse than I had anticipated, and I felt guilty. In my mid-20s, I had traveled alone through South America, and I had suffered such a pinch of loneliness, but now I worried about him. Was he having fun? Had I made the right choices? Sometimes I thought this travel was just me trying to outrun my unhappiness. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to stay still for a while.Our last stop was Oaxaca City. We took a winding overnight bus and arrived bleary-eyed to a quaint hotel door still locked at 8 a.m. The bus had been my idea, but it was much worse than I had anticipated, and I felt guilty. In my mid-20s, I had traveled alone through South America, and I had suffered such a pinch of loneliness, but now I worried about him. Was he having fun? Had I made the right choices? Sometimes I thought this travel was just me trying to outrun my unhappiness. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to stay still for a while.
On New Year’s Eve, we had dinner at the finest hotel in the city, which had been recommended by a restaurateur who loved it so much she held her wedding there. I could get married here, I thought, as we walked through the white corridor and into a courtyard in full bloom. The dinner was on a rooftop offering a romantic view of the colonial city, and each table had a warm amber candle, and I grew jumpier as the courses unfolded, as ceviche gave way to squash blossoms gave way to mole. I was not really a diamond ring kind of woman, but I promised myself if he had one, I would be happy. He reached down to pick up something from the floor at one point, and my heart went sideways, but it was just his napkin. Dessert came and went. We ordered a second bottle of wine, or maybe our third, and I slumped back into the realization that there would be no ring, there would be no proposal. At 12 o’clock, the old year tipped into a new year — and we stayed the same.On New Year’s Eve, we had dinner at the finest hotel in the city, which had been recommended by a restaurateur who loved it so much she held her wedding there. I could get married here, I thought, as we walked through the white corridor and into a courtyard in full bloom. The dinner was on a rooftop offering a romantic view of the colonial city, and each table had a warm amber candle, and I grew jumpier as the courses unfolded, as ceviche gave way to squash blossoms gave way to mole. I was not really a diamond ring kind of woman, but I promised myself if he had one, I would be happy. He reached down to pick up something from the floor at one point, and my heart went sideways, but it was just his napkin. Dessert came and went. We ordered a second bottle of wine, or maybe our third, and I slumped back into the realization that there would be no ring, there would be no proposal. At 12 o’clock, the old year tipped into a new year — and we stayed the same.
I returned to Dallas with no ring. I met my friend at the bar, and he regretted the joke he had made before we left. “He should have asked you to marry him,” he said, and I thanked him. More than anything, I wanted to be a woman that a man wanted to marry. It was less a wish to move forward and more a fear of being left behind.I returned to Dallas with no ring. I met my friend at the bar, and he regretted the joke he had made before we left. “He should have asked you to marry him,” he said, and I thanked him. More than anything, I wanted to be a woman that a man wanted to marry. It was less a wish to move forward and more a fear of being left behind.
I still wonder what would have happened if he and I had continued. It wouldn’t have been so hard. Maybe I never would have stopped drinking, which is what I needed to do to finally write my book. Maybe he never would have found the thin, casually elegant blonde he married and with whom he is now raising a child. That alternate life will remain a mystery, because one evening, a few months after we returned, he turned to me and said the words that will change the course of your life: “I can’t do this anymore.” And the way he said it, I could tell: He was certain.I still wonder what would have happened if he and I had continued. It wouldn’t have been so hard. Maybe I never would have stopped drinking, which is what I needed to do to finally write my book. Maybe he never would have found the thin, casually elegant blonde he married and with whom he is now raising a child. That alternate life will remain a mystery, because one evening, a few months after we returned, he turned to me and said the words that will change the course of your life: “I can’t do this anymore.” And the way he said it, I could tell: He was certain.
He had given me the gift I needed. We could finally set each other free.He had given me the gift I needed. We could finally set each other free.