I booked a 5-week trip to visit my long-distance boyfriend. We broke up a month before, but I went anyway.

Back in 2022, I got into a very long-distance relationship between Paris (the French one) and Boston (the American one).

For about 18 months, we staggered along despite the thousands of miles between us.

From the start, he seemed convinced that I needed to move to America if I wanted us to have a future. Despite my doubts, I began to consider relocating. I'd fallen for Boston, I live for adventure, and if I hated it, I could just… leave?

By this point, the cracks were seriously showing, but we agreed I'd come to America for the summer, as a sort of trial run.

Although we'd both questioned the future of our relationship, I was still stunned when he broke up with me a month before I was due to fly to the US.

The flights were nonrefundable, and I love a solo trip, but I couldn't decide whether going it alone this time would be cathartic or catastrophic.

I have family and friends in the US, though, and my flight was to San Diego, where one of my best friends lives, so I decided to go for it.

Deep down, I hoped that maybe this experience would be more empowering than sad.

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I went from San Diego to San Francisco to Portland, enjoying several weeks with some of my favorite people, and it was the best tonic I could have hoped for.

I was probably boring company at times; I spent many hours going over the countless reasons the relationship was never meant to last. But my nearest and dearest listened to me, and laughed with me, and took me on all kinds of adventures to the most gorgeous corners of California and Oregon.

It's pretty hard to be sad when you're having that much fun with people you love.