Moving on.

Saying goodbye in Koh Tao, Thailand.

I’m not going to lie. I spent the entire next morning crying.

It was one of my hardest goodbyes yet.

I had to turn around as I watched everyone ride off because I knew the tears were coming. And then I sat around all morning trying to find Dave, an Irishman who was the only other staying behind, so I’d have someone to console in.

I was sad for losing Josh, who I’d liked more than I thought I would or ever wanted to. Who I felt comfortable and myself with, something that doesn’t happen often for me. Who I knew was way too young for me and while I like to think age doesn’t matter for some reasons it does.

But I was also sad for losing everyone else. For all the Aussies who were some of the most genuinely nicest boys I’ve ever met. For the Chicago-loving Brits Laura and Hugh. For Aaron, who had no qualms frankly asking the most inappropriate questions.

I’ve been here before. I felt the same way leaving behind my boys in Laos.

And it’s far from my first relationship on this trip. And I’ve gotten my heart broken before. And broken a heart or so of my own.

It gets both harder and easier with everyone I meet. Harder to think that there are all of these great men out there, so many people I’ve connected with and wish could be in a more permanent place in my life. But easier to know that there’s always someone else. There is always someone else.

I spent three more nights in Koh Tao.

Getting beers and cocktails on the beach. Watching poi. Listening to music. Getting a massage. Eating chocolate. Buying myself jewelry. Swimming in the sea. Watching the sun set.

If you ever need to mend a broken heart, I highly recommend doing it on a beach.

And no, no I did not go diving in Koh Tao.