Admitting it.

Besides the obvious joy it's given me to keep my destination a secret from most, i've also had ulterior motives for keeping that information sacred.

This is because stop numero uno is Madrid, Spain.

What's in Madrid, Spain?

The Spaniard.

Before you start reproaching me (well, for those of you that know the story--- there is no doubt you want to), please understand my motives.

Less than one year ago I was in a place where I would have dropped out of school, given up my dreams of traveling the world, been content to live in Zug, Switzerland where my skills did not match the job market, and married this man (which is a lot to say for a girl who doesn't believe in marraige), who I knew for barely a few months, but with whom I was crazily, if hopelessly in love. I really would have.

Digest that slowly. I know I had to, because I fought myself the whole time. Maybe it was because I wasn't ready. Maybe it was because I knew he wasn't right for me.

But the issue here is the MAYBE.

After we ended I didn't hear from him for two months. He disappeared. When I turned around and dissapeared back at him, he reappeared like a bunny from a top hat. I hadn't expected it-- and I was so happy to reconnect that for awhile I avoided the Whale in the closet. (I say whale because Elephant and Gorilla are now taken!).

The Whale? = the Who, What, When, Where and WHY. The What the hell for? The WHY did it end, WHY did he disappear? Where did he go? Who did he go there with? Was there someone else? When did he simply decide to switch that elusive little heart switch to off mode and WHY was I never able find mine? And most importantly WHY was he back now?

And over the past 10 months we've dealt with many of these issues; at the same time trying not to dwell on a past that can't be helped-- but trying to work more on what the future could be.

The future consists of a primary question; is there still something between us?

And even our most intimate of phone calls can't tell us like meeting again, face to face.

This is something I have to do. It's something I want to do. Otherwise I don't know why he and I speak anymore.

So that's my confession. I'm only going to be in Spain a week, and my sister and his brother will be with us to relieve any unforseen tension. Worst case scenario? We meet as old frieds. Best? That is what I am avoiding thinking about. For now.

I'm excited.

And i'm terrified.