it’s not a goodbye; it’s a thank you.

I awoke on this Fourth of July in Buenos Aires’ largest neighborhood, Palermo. Palermo served as my home base during my seven-day sojourn in the city that birthed Soda Stereo and where the World Cup trophy now resides, thanks to Messi.

I chose Palermo based on a recommendation from a friend. A neighborhood of neighborhoods, Palermo’s streets are adorned with boutiques, coffee shops with personality, picturesque parks, and a handful of the city’s finest restaurants.

A quick side note: Don Julio unquestionably lived up to its reputation. Later in the week, I patiently waited for two hours to secure a seat without a reservation. I ended up sharing my experience with Richard and Luc, a couple hailing from Brooklyn. In my perspective, El Preferido fell slightly short. The phenomenon around milanesa remains a mystery to me, but I’ll undoubtedly endorse Don Julio to my friends who visit Buenos Aires in the future.

On this morning, I reserved a bike tour of Palermo/Recoleta through an Airbnb experience. Opting out of hostels for this trip, I was hopeful that these group activities would provide an opportunity to connect with others, similar to how I met Andrew on a walking tour in Berlin.

Upon reaching the tour location, I swiftly realized it would be just Dario, the guide, and myself for today’s adventure. Initially, I felt a tinge of disappointment, but Dario’s vibrant energy infused me with hope that this could still be a rewarding experience.

We embarked from the Buenos Aires Ecoparque, a former zoo turned park, and headed towards Plaza de las Naciones Unidas to marvel at the the Floralis Genérica. This monument, crafted from aircraft materials, depicts an immense flower and was crafted by Eduardo Catalano. Evidently, there was considerable controversy surrounding this monument due to its hefty cost to the city, constructed amidst an economic crisis in the early 2000s.

After snapping a couple of pics for the fam, we cycled through the vibrant foliage of the Bosques de Palermo. Dario shared anecdotes about José de San Martín, Argentina’s revered national hero, renowned for leading revolutions against Spanish rule. Along our route, we encountered families relishing their morning walks, a man engaging in roller skiing, and a young girl honing her skills with impressive twirls and spins on roller blades.

As the rain began to fall, Dario skillfully guided us to a bench beneath a tree overlooking the Lago de Regatas. The tree’s leaves adeptly shielded us from the rain, allowing us to relish a quick bite: traditional beef empanadas, delectable dulce de leche pastries (my newfound favorite), and an assortment of fresh fruits.

Up until that point, I did not know much about Dario. He was proudly wearing his tour guide hat, so most of our conversations centered around the city’s history and sites. The serene ambiance, coupled with the gentle rain, paved the way for more profound discussions, delving into our personal narratives.

I recounted my journey of resigning from my job, navigating a breakup, and embracing a few months of travel to reconnect with myself. My expectations were poised to hear the conventional “this is a fantastic opportunity, seize it.” While that sentiment holds true, Dario’s subsequent recounting caught me off guard.

Before leading bike tours in Buenos Aires, Dario and his former spouse made the power move to quit their jobs, lease their apartment, and embark on their “Pangea” project, encompassing seven years of travel. Casually licking the dulce de leche off my fingers, my astonishment was palpable, leading Dario to chuckle, well aware of my surprise.

The rain persisted, and a flock of geese joined our dialogue as Dario unraveled more tales from his seven-year journey. Originally planning only to visit India, their trajectory extended over nearly a decade, encompassing diverse destinations worldwide. Needless to say, Dario had a PhD in travel, love, heartbreak, and self-discovery.

“You discover another side of yourself when you travel; you push yourself into different situations,” he commented, reflecting on a recent solo journey he undertook, his first since the separation.

I played the game of Life the past few years in two-player mode. Yes, it’s fun to play Call of Duty with a friend, but during this time, I lost a bit of self-confidence and tended to be more dependent than independent in my relationship. Striking that equilibrium proved to be a challenge. Dario’s insight ignited a spark of hope that this “new game” would assist me in discovering a more harmonious balance moving forward.

As Dario recounted the culmination of his journey and the subsequent separation, his smile remained as radiant as when reminiscing about his hitchhiking escapades in Kazakhstan. It caught me off guard, but then he said, “I’m happy to share my experiences,” encompassing both the positives and the negatives.

The empanadas were finished, and only remnants of the dulce de leche remained as Dario delved into discussions about love and uncoupling.

“Love is transformative. It’s now a different kind of love (with us),” he explained, elaborating that while they grew apart, a bond of friendship endured. Though no longer romantically entwined, his affection for her persisted. They maintained contact, occasionally exchanging texts about random travel reminiscences. They both lived in the same vicinity, continuing to seek favors from one another. Trust, love, and connection are still ever so present.

For me, this concept resonated deeply, encapsulating a phrase I’ve come to tell myself regarding my personal separation:

Sure, our story did not go as we may have planned. I wasn’t able to propose with our favorite Kasey Musgraves song playing in the background, no white picket fences, or witnessing our kids’ first steps. Nonetheless, within these circumstances, an abundance of gratitude emerged, accompanied by a host of accomplishments that adorned our journey.

We actually crushed it – we won, lost, supported each other, took risks, laughed, cried, and grew every day, together. Relocating across the country, initiating a splendid life in Nashville, and rescuing our dear Alice underscored our accomplishments. My ex-partner taught me it was okay to be vulnerable and display emotions. She encouraged me to delve into therapy, steadfastly supporting me in navigating the intricacies of my familial relationships.

Above all, I am thankful for her as my best friend. Meeting her made me realize that there are things in this life worth going all in for. I am resolute in my believe that our partnership bore fruit. Just because the pages have ceased to turn does not render our union any less beautiful. It was enchanting, and I am overjoyed and grateful for sharing that chapter with her.

Similar to Dario, our love underwent a transformation. My trust, love, and connection will forever live on. I am always going to be her cheerleader – no longer on the field, but now from the stands.

Dario and I concluded our exploration of the streets in Palermo Chico and Recoleta. In the end, Dario gave me a hug and said, “Don’t fear; it will be sad, but you will come out. (It’s) the circle of life, you will learn a lot.”

Thirty minutes later, I find myself at El Preferido, eating the aforementioned milanesa, contemplating Dario’s narrative, the journey that lies ahead, and the assurance that all will be well, in due time.

Today was a good day, and this Mendoza wine tastes pretty damn good too.

You can learn more about Dario’s story in his blog.