The Truth About Mexico: A Breakup Post

I wrote this post a couple of years ago but forgot to ever publish it. 
So, here you go. 
Some thoughts from 23 year old Tay.

A wise person once told me: You don’t come back from a vacation with your significant other the same way. Either your relationship is much stronger after spending all that time together, or you realized that you don’t actually want to be with that person. Unfortunately, Mexico led me to realize the latter rather than the former.

We booked Mexico when we were in the honeymoon phase of the relationship. We were still in school, everything was going great, nothing seemed like a better way to relax and celebrate than spending a week in Mexico. Did we try to book a vacation together too soon? Yes. Would the relationship have lasted longer if we hadn’t gone to Mexico? No. Quite frankly, it was doomed from the start. But I now know this, I will never ever book a vacation with someone again before that one-year anniversary mark.

Before going to Mexico, everyone told me that it was the most romantic vacation you could take with a boyfriend. Seven days in the sun, with a beautiful view, unlimited food and drink and best of all, your boyfriend by your side. I guess I had too high of hopes for this trip. Because from the minute I left my house, it was horrible. I am a stressed-out traveler. I’ll be the first to admit that. I don’t like flying. I don’t like layovers. I don’t like going through security. It’s just not my idea of fun. But of course, I will do it all to get to my end destination. After all, I thought I would be able to relax the minute I stepped on to a sandy Mexican beach. I wanted to feel all my troubles slip away. But it was quite the opposite. I was so stressed out the whole week. How is that even possible in Mexico? Looking back on it, I think it’s because I knew the inevitable was coming. I knew our relationship was falling apart. I knew he was no longer the guy I wanted to be with. How would I be able to relax when I was spending every second with somebody that I probably wouldn’t be dating within the next couple of months.

To be frank, the trip sucked. As soon as I landed back in Edmonton (and my boyfriend left me at the airport without even ensuring I had a ride home; classic), everyone was asking me how the trip went and I gave them the most neutral answer I could, “it was great, it was hot, do I look tanned?!”. I really avoided talking about the trip in fear that I would burst into tears if questioned long enough. I guess that’s why I’m writing this post. It’s so that I have something to refer to when answering what went wrong in Mexico. But don’t get me wrong, it’s not like anything specific happened on the trip that made me realize that I was done with this relationship, it was just the lack of love. I think I just finally realized that there really was no love between us. We had spent hours on the beach together exchanging only a couple of words, eaten delicious meals while running out of things to talk about, went to bed frustrated and tired with each other. We were not a couple in love in Mexico. We were two friends hanging out. We were two strangers that had fallen out of love.

After that vacation, our relationship went into a quick downward spiral. Suddenly all the things that made him special disappeared. The nightly phone calls stopped. We only hung out for just a couple of hours once a week. No “good night, I love you” texts. The relationship was broken down to just it’s bare bones. It was torture. I was miserable, but still I hung on. I have a tendency to do that. Even when I know the relationship is failing, I tend to remember the good times. I hold on to the hope that things might go back to what they were. But eventually, I realized that there was no longer this hope. There was just no possibility of us working out.

And it’s sad. It’s really, really sad. I think I really did love him. But when love is one-sided, it’s really damn hard to make something work. I was his first girlfriend. He often attributed the problems to that. But I so badly wanted to just shake his shoulders and scream in his face that this wasn’t how you treated a girl you supposedly loved. This isn’t a stab at him. He really was a great guy and he could be a great boyfriend at times. But there comes a point when you can only do so much to make a relationship work. Sometimes, it’s just not meant to be. And that’s okay. But it’s better to realize that sooner rather than later. Because sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together.