The initial few days in Boston were tough for him. New country. Miles across the Atlantic. It wasn’t that he had never traveled abroad or wasn’t used to traveling or living alone. But for the first time he was traveling on a one-way ticket. Just the uncertainty of not knowing the return date was unsettling. He called her. He felt anchored.
He had wanted to pack her up and take her along with him, but how could he be so selfish. She had her whole ecosystem here. A great job. A wonderful family. Amazing set of friends. And so was his. Yet he wanted to experience studying abroad. So he made the most optimum choice. ‘Everything will work out well in the end,’ he thought.
It didn’t. She broke up with him four months into their now long-distance relationship. He was shattered. He felt victimized for putting (although a much altered version of) his dreams in the spotlight. But, over time, he healed. He realized that not all of his hurt was from love. A lot of his longing was from loneliness in a foreign land.