A Road Trip, a Boat Trip & Mallorca: The Final Chapter

This would become my final post.

For over a year, I kept writing, and with every word I said goodbye to Lucas, and to the life I had lived with him. Now it is time to step into my own life. And mine alone.

With these words, I leave this story behind. And I leave Berlin.

For a long time, the apartment I had moved back into no longer felt like home. The fear of running into Lucas at any moment never really disappeared. Every time I was in the city, I got sick: headaches, tonsillitis… Clear signals from my body that this place was no longer right for me.

So I packed the essentials and set off.

Destination: Mallorca.

The Road South

My car carried me through several countries. The first stop was the Kaiserstuhl, probably the warmest and one of the most beautiful regions in Germany. Ironically, it was a place I had wanted to visit during my road trip with Lucas and, surprise, surprise, we never made it because HE had other plans.

In your face, Lucas. This time, I decide.

So, off to Kaiserstuhl.

Unfortunately, leaving in March meant arriving to rain, bare vineyards, and grey skies. My plans for scenic views over rolling vineyards were, shall we say, poorly timed. Along the scenic route, there was little to admire except windshield wipers dancing back and forth.

I'm sure it's beautiful in summer.

Continuing through France, I stopped in Besançon, a town I had marked on my map. But the moment I arrived, I realized I had been here before. With him.

I sat down in a cat café - Café des Félins, took a few deep breaths, and ordered a cup of tea. Around me, silence and sleeping cats. There was no point in running from it. I couldn't spend the rest of my life avoiding places that reminded me of him. So I made a conscious decision: to rewrite the story.

Rewriting Old Memories

Pézenas was my next stop, where Molière had spent a significant amount of time with his theatre troup.

I walked the same streets we had wandered together two years earlier. Every now and then, his shadow seemed to pass by, but I kept walking, as if I were laying new images over old ones. Back then, it had been summer, the streets crowded with people. Now, they were almost empty. Just me and my memories.

Le Puy-en-Velay, on the other hand, belonged entirely to me.

The moment I saw it in the distance, I knew I was going to love it. A giant statue of the Virgin Mary rose above the town, while farther away, another dramatic volcanic peak was crowned by a tiny convent. How anyone managed to haul all that building material up there remains a complete mystery to me.

The heavy metal door, followed by the narrow spiral staircase leading to my hotel, felt like stepping straight into the Middle Ages. The room was simple but lovingly furnished but what more did I need?

The town itself, with its winding alleys and slightly eerie cathedral, became one of my favorite discoveries of the journey: a place that quietly invited inspiration.

I drove through Spain with only one goal in mind: to reach my destination.

Mallorca Opened Its Doors

A place where I didn't know a single person.

And yet, it felt as though Mallorca had opened its doors to me the moment I arrived. On my very first day, I found myself singing with a local choir.

I threw myself into festivals, into village life, into everything the island had to offer. Every morning, I studied Spanish, eager to find my place in this new world as quickly as possible. One day, I spotted a group of drummers rehearsing in the street. Without thinking twice, I joined them. I absorbed life as though I had been empty for years.

And little by little, thoughts of Lucas faded further and further into the background.

One Year Later

"Where do you want to be on your birthday next year?"

Someone had asked me that question a year earlier, while I was sitting alone at a rainy vineyard, a glass of wine in my hand.

A year later, on my birthday, I found myself on a boat. With a new friend who had only recently entered my life. That evening, I shared dinner with another friend, someone I had known for years, who happened to be on the island at the same time. Mallorca became the final ingredient in my healing.

Here, I discovered the openness and kindness of strangers. People who welcomed me not because of my achievements, but simply because we created and shared something beautiful together. I learned that it is okay to leave an environment that causes pain. That protecting yourself is not weakness, it is wisdom.

I found my voice again. And, along the way, I found a new community.

To everyone who has followed this journey - Thank you.

When I look back at my very first posts, I feel proud of how far I have come. Proud that I found my way out of some of the most painful years of my life, one step, one word, one day at a time.

More than anything, I hope that someone who is still where I once was will one day read these lines. Someone who cannot yet imagine that life can feel different.

I hope these words remind you that healing is possible. I wish you strength. I wish you courage. Because it is possible. And it is worth it.

For the only life you have.

For yourself.

Be Well,

Vaselisa