Have you ever fallen so head over heels in love that you’d ditch your family, your settled life, your job, and your friends to chase the man of your dreams halfway across the world?
Well, that’s exactly what happened to my best friend, Nika. She’s a fiery, somewhat reckless girl.
Not like me.
Or so I thought. Man, was I wrong!
I always considered myself a sensible, level-headed person. But the events that followed—and my own actions—made me seriously question that assumption.
But let’s take it step by step.
On a sunny July morning, the first day of my long-awaited vacation, I could hear the neighborhood grandmas gossiping on the bench outside my window while kids ran around screaming. Normally, I’d sleep until noon on weekends, and I fully intended to do just that—until a Skype call jolted me awake.
Ugh, forgot to turn off my laptop last night…
I glanced at the screen and saw it was Nika calling. No need to brush my hair for her! Still half-asleep, I clicked the call icon.
“Wow, you’re such a sleepyhead!” Nika laughed as soon as she saw me.
She got a kick out of my messy bedhead and pink Mickey Mouse pajamas. “Can you believe we’re seeing each other tomorrow?”
I yawned lazily, nodding in response.
Nika and I have been tight since preschool. Over the past twenty years, we’ve been through so much together! Elementary school. High school. College. Ballroom dancing. First loves—and plenty of not-so-first ones. My obsession with music and starting an all-girl rock band called “Bloody Mary.” Festival parties. Jobs and renting an apartment together after graduation.
It was only her marriage that separated us, and it’s been a whole year already.
Here’s how it went down: Two years ago, Nika met Marat, her dad’s business partner. It was love at first sight, and things moved fast—frequent visits from Marat, endless Skype calls, and nonstop texting on Telegram. Within six months, Marat, a decisive and passionate guy from the East, proposed. Moving to another country didn’t faze Nika one bit. She’s never been the type to scare easily. Marat’s big, welcoming family embraced her, especially his chatty female relatives. Nika threw herself into learning the language and immersing herself in the exotic culture. Still, she missed her old life—and, of course, me. We kept in touch over the phone, but not as often as we wanted, and it just wasn’t the same. So, a few months ago, for my birthday, Nika gifted me plane tickets to come visit. I was thrilled—I love to travel—and I’ve been counting down the days ever since.
“I’ve got everything planned out. We’re gonna have a packed itinerary full of fun stuff. We’ll hit the beach too—what’s a vacation without the ocean, right?” Nika started, all businesslike. “Oh! And I’ll introduce you to Marat’s friends. You’re gonna love them, just wait and see! I bet you won’t find guys like them back home. You’ll charm them, fall in love, get married, and stay here with me!”
Here we go… This brilliant, oh-so-fresh-and-original idea that it’s time for me to settle down made my teeth ache, sparked a flicker of irritation, and had me wanting to swat it away like an annoying fly. Not long ago, this became the favorite topic at our family dinner table, pushed hard by my mom and grandma. They kept reminding me that time’s ticking, I’m not eighteen anymore, and by my age, they already had me, while my grandparents had my mom and Uncle Jerry.
Dad was the only one who still saw me as his little girl and couldn’t understand why I needed to get married at all. But the women had the majority, so he stayed quiet. Whenever the topic came up, he’d try to slip out of sight to avoid getting dragged into the argument. Meanwhile, my twin sisters, Christina and Albina, loved watching these debates unfold, quietly relieved that they’re still too young to be pressured about marriage.
And now Nika’s jumping on the bandwagon!
Why is everyone so obsessed with my personal life? Or, more accurately, the lack of one…
I rolled my eyes.
“Nika, are you kidding me? I don’t want to get married. I’m only twenty-five! I want to see the world, build a career.”
Nika sighed, clearly disappointed.
“Lina, Lina, you’ve still got your head in the clouds!”
She’s right. Nika knows me too well and always cuts straight to the chase.
I played along.
“And can you really tame the wind?”
She laughed.
“Look at you, a poet!”
“Yeah, inspiration strikes sometimes…”
“But you know,” Nika mused, “I think it’s possible. If the wind wants to be tamed.”
“And turns into a gentle breeze?”
“You’re quick on the uptake!” she said, her eyes wide with mock admiration, the little matchmaker.
“So that’s what this sneaky plane ticket gift was all about! You’re a sly one, Veronica…”
Pausing to think, I added more seriously,
“You know, Eastern culture just isn’t my thing. I’m a Western girl through and through. Feminism, equality, freedom, all that jazz…”
“Oh my gosh, Lina, where do you get all this nonsense in your head?” Nika groaned. “Though… I used to think the same way before I met Marat. Just wait until you stumble into your own Eastern fairy tale—you won’t want to come back!”
“And what about my dream of packing stadiums?” I reminded her of my abandoned music career.
“I can’t organize stadiums, but I can guarantee adventures!” Nika winked at me playfully.
I was in a great mood and didn’t feel like arguing with her.
“Alright, Nik, I’m gonna go freshen up, okay?”
“Sounds good. Catch you later! Kisses, and I can’t wait to see you!”
But it seemed like I wasn’t destined to make it to the bathroom just yet. I’d barely ended the call with Nika when my phone rang. It was Mom. I couldn’t ignore her.
“Hey, sweetie! Lina, I’ve been thinking…” Mom hesitated, then continued uncertainly, “Maybe you shouldn’t go?”
That’s my parents for you! Why go anywhere or look for anything when it’s just fine at home? Or at the cabin. Or, in Dad’s case, on a fishing trip… They’re homebodies to the core and have never understood my wanderlust. They often found out about my trips only after seeing my photos on Facebook. But they never stayed mad for long. When I came back with gifts and treats, they were always happy to have me over for tea.
“Mom, what’s wrong?” I asked, surprised.
“Well, I had a bad dream,” she started with her usual spiel.
“What did you dream about?”
“I can’t remember exactly. Something about you, something bad. So I’m thinking, maybe you shouldn’t go anywhere?”
I snorted.
“That’s nonsense, Mom! Don’t worry—everything will be fine. You know how long I’ve been looking forward to this!”
“I know, but still, think about it. Things over there seem kind of unstable…” Mom wasn’t giving up on trying to convince me, even though she knew it was pointless.
“No, I’m not changing my mind. Don’t stress over nothing!” I shifted the topic. “Are you and Dad coming by after midnight?”
“Yes, honey. The girls want to see you off too.”
I said goodbye to Mom and forgot about the conversation. The rest of the day was spent packing my suitcase and tidying up. I didn’t want to come back from an amazing vacation to a messy apartment.
Later, I plopped down on the couch with a cup of green tea and started thinking about all the memories this place held. Nika and I rented this apartment three years ago after college when we landed our first jobs—me as a recruiter, her as an analyst. We felt so grown-up and independent! It’s a small two-bedroom place, a typical old-school building, but somehow incredibly cozy and unique. It looked like kids picked out the furniture—it was so bright and cartoonish: a yellow couch, a vivid blue armchair, walls decorated with pictures of smiling birds and crocodiles, and African masks on the dresser. We couldn’t pass it up and told the realtor right away that we’d take it.
I remembered New Year’s parties with friends, singing with a guitar until dawn while the neighbors banged on the walls. Cozy gatherings over mugs of mulled wine. Oh, the secrets these walls have heard! The tears shed here, the music played, the laughter that echoed! Of course, the good times outweighed the bad—Nika and I just aren’t the type to stay down for long.
When Nika moved away, everything changed. We still had friends over and celebrated New Year’s, but I missed her. It felt lonely. I’m an extrovert to my core—I need my people around me like I need air.
Lost in these nostalgic thoughts, I was caught off guard when Dad showed up. Seeing me still in my loungewear, he was about to launch into a lecture like, “You’re still not ready?” but I beat him to it.
“Give me five minutes!”
I dashed into my room, threw on some worn jeans, a white tank top, and my favorite red plaid shirt, tied my hair into a ponytail, and winked at my reflection in the mirror. Dad grabbed my suitcase, and we headed downstairs where Mom and my sisters were waiting in the car.
At the airport, there were long goodbyes and hugs with Mom, Dad, and the girls.
Dad, the most reserved of us, gave me a hug and quietly said at the last moment,
“Lina, call as soon as you land, okay?”
He looked so cool with his short haircut and old Metallica T-shirt. But he can’t fool me—I know he’s worried.
“Of course, Dad!” I assured him.
After finally saying goodbye to everyone, I boarded the plane. I settled into my seat comfortably and closed my eyes with a smile. I love this feeling—the start of a new journey, the anticipation of adventure… Even the basic airplane food always tastes amazing to me. My lips curled into a blissful grin on their own.
Soon, we took off, heading for the Middle East. Exhaustion hit me. I put on my headphones, turned on some music, and didn’t even notice when I drifted off to sleep.