On going solo.

No one I meet here thinks I'm married. Whenever I mention C, which is often, the other party always stops and says, "Oh, you're married?" and then surveys me, searching for signs, I guess, that I'm not single. I left my engagement ring at home (that diamond hails from Delhi and already went on a 5 week tour of India stuffed in C's luggage) but I wear my wedding band on my left hand. Either people don't notice it or they think it's fake?

See? Married. 

I've been missing C since I arrived. It hit me three days after arriving in Mysore. My jet lag had faded and I was settling in: I'd found the shala, gone on an adventure to the market, bought a sketchy power surge bar and then replaced it with a better model. I had moved the kitchen table into my bedroom and set up my writing den (with permission from my housemates, I should add). It happened when I was walking home from the coconut stand; I started to cry: I was alone in a foreign country and I would continue to be alone for three more months. Of course, I wasn't alone - I was living with my teachers, I made friends. But half my heart was/is on the other side of the world.

This hollow feeling persists, but I've managed to distract myself. First, practicing in Mysore really shook me up - I've written in prior posts about the physical pain and the emotional exhaustion that I experienced (and it was pretty cool, too!). And, oh, I was working on a manuscript. Revising/rewriting stories with a serious deadline approaching forced me to focus. Feeling lonely? Write! Feeling bored? WRITE! Wanting to hop on a plane and leave? WRITE goddamnit!

Self portrait in locking cabinet mirror illustrating how alone I am.

And now? I sent my revisions off five days ago and, while I have some more work to do, none of it will be the wrenching ohmygodthisstoryisnotworkingandthereforeIwilldie kind. After 6 weeks away from my love, I want to hop on a plane and go home.

Missing someone like this is really weird for me for a number of reasons: I'm an only child and have, therefore, spent a lot of time by myself. Also, I'm a bit of a loner. I like people, but the introvert in me needs lots of quiet me time. Shhhhh. See? And, I've lived alone and traveled alone, for extended periods of time, before. What the hell? I guess all this changes when you fall in love. Also, the last time I spent this much time alone, I was a single 26 year old finishing an MA and living in Montreal. Now I'm getting to know myself, alone, again, one of the points of going on this trip.

I'm not a complete mess, though. I've been going to the beach, hanging out with new yoga friends, practicing of course, and planning the next leg of my journey. I have also been taking some pictures of Kovalam. For instance:

I'm no electrician, but this set up doesn't inspire confidence.

Yogis don't eat eggs (okay, I do sometimes back home, but they're from my parents' chickens, who have a nicer life than me). It's about 35 in the shade in this picture. Yum.

I think the arrow is pointing the wrong way.

A hotel theme!

See?

This is the sidewalk.

So the adventure continues. Soon I will move on to the travel portion of my trip and Thailand. The real journey, though, is the internal one, how I react to being alone in this crazy place. I'm not going home yet!