leaving rome in the rearview.
I had rediscovered myself in Mexico. I found my spark again and I was excited to learn what awaits me back home. But before I could embrace my family and friends again, I had my return flight booked for Rome, and planned to spend two more weeks with Nico.
This time around, I decided to contact some other travellers in Rome through Workaway and after a week we met up by the Colloseum. This first week, I was a bit more productive during the day. I went on longer walks, took better care of myself and made plans to return home for my dad’s birthday. The end of the week arrived so quickly, and I was glad to be surrounded by some new people.
The second week, I was less productive again. Usually Nico would come home around 8, and we would have dinner together. I always waited for him, I thought it was only polite. However this week every day Nico worked, I wouldn’t hear from him until I asked him around 8:30/9:00 when he’s coming back. To which he would reply ‘I am having some drinks with friends, theres soup in the fridge.’ ‘Okay, have fun! Just tell me next time before I wait on you to eat.’ Once is an accident. Only it happened the same way the next day he worked, twice is a coincidence.
Then came my second-last day in Rome, and of my trip of 7 months. And the third time, a pattern. Nico went to work, and for some reason this time he took the keys. Maybe he knew that he might be home late and didn’t want me to have to stay up late to open the door for him. Nothing wrong. . . Yet. It was 9:00 PM very quickly and I again asked him if he was coming home to eat. Turns out a friend he hadn’t seen in a long time was in town and invited him for drinks. Understandable. I told him to have fun, but asked him not to get too drunk so he wouldn’t be hungover my last day there, as I wanted us to have a fun last day together. He promised me he wouldn’t. So, I went to sleep soundly. For about three hours, at 2 AM he still wasn’t back, again at 5 AM and 7. I hadn’t heard from him.
I had my first panic attack that night. I barely slept, I paced anxiously, I cried and could barely catch my breath. He woke up at 9 and explained to me that he stayed at his friend’s place in Ostia, about an hour away from Rome. Hearing this didn’t make me feel any better, I felt neglected that day. The last day of my trip. He said he would come home as soon as possible. I wanted to make the most of my last day, it was beautiful weather to go out, I could have left, but he had the keys and I wouldn’t have been able to get back in. I considered leaving and booking a hostel for that night. I had packed my bags, ready to leave. But after everything, I still couldn’t leave without thanking him for letting me stay with him. So I stayed. Around 6 PM, he arrived. I laid facing away from him, about to cry. I didn’t say a word, and he went to play Fifa. I was furious! Without saying a word, I put on my shoes, took his keys and told him I was going for some fresh air.
When I returned, I was still angry. We didn’t talk. He made us dinner, we watched our show and just for the sake of ending my trip on a good note, I put that day behind me for the night. The next day we said goodbye, I thanked him and left. We stayed in touch for a while and a few weeks later, I stopped talking to him.
In Rome I learned that if I am to stay with a friend, I need to plan ahead, and not stay for longer than a week or two. I got gaslighted by someone who I already had given a second chance. I learned to be careful. And if I am to return to Rome, I know which places to stay away from.
