Blair’s flightiness in the name of adventure has always struck me as extremely self-centered. It never mattered who she was leaving behind so long as she kept moving forward—and the farther the better, because that way, she couldn’t even see her old life in the rearview. Out of sight, out of mind.
It’s tough to see how Matteo has changed after spending the last two years with her. He used to be one of the most thoughtful people in my life.
“Yeah,” he says after a moment. “I see that now.”
He pokes at the fire with his stick, setting off a spray of embers that flicker and then disappear. His face, usually so happy-go-lucky—even this week, with everyone but me—is a shadow of itself right now, sullen and unsmiling.
“If I’m honest,” he says, still poking at embers, “I think I always knew how wrong it was, what I did to you.”
He throws the stick into the fire, finally meets my eyes.
“I felt these little stabs of guilt for so long—they started in the airport, before Blair and I ever left, but there were a lot of other times, too.” He shifts his weight, pulls one knee up to his chest. “I told myself Blair would be worth it, though…that the adventure would be worth it. That it was time to choose something formeinstead of just tagging along with the careeryouhad chosen here in Cali.”
I take it all in. I’m not sure if it makes me feel better or worse to know he’s felt guilty off and on over the years.
It’s good to know his conscience is still intact, even if he tried to bury it, but the fact that he still got on a plane and went into full-throttle YOLO mode at the first sign of those feelings is disappointing, to say the least.
“Even though Iknowhow she is, I thought I could be the one to keep her—the exception,” Matteo goes on. “I thought we’d go on adventures together for the rest of our lives, so her breakup texts were a real blindside. And it’s beenmiserable, man. How could I have been so stupid? How could I have thought I was special? I stole my best friend’s girlfriend and then fully believed she wouldn’t leave me in the exact same way. I’m an idiot.”
It feels like a rush of lava, the way everything he’s been holding in is pouring out now, hot and fiery and bright.
“Seeing your face, the day I got her text—I couldn’t handle it, man. I was barely holding it together, trying to process what she’d written,and then there you were, a reminder of all the things I screwed up because I thought Blair would be worth it.”
He blinks rapidly, clearing away the glassiness in his eyes.
“All I could think about was how miserable I felt.” He swallows, hard. “And how miserableyoumust have felt back then, how much worse it must have been for you when I was the person who’d blindsided you with Blair. I couldn’t handle it, Thorn. I’ve been such a disaster out here. And I’m—I’m really, really sorry, man. For everything. I don’t blame you for never wanting to speak to me again.”
My eyebrows raise. “I never said that.”
He’s quiet, all out of words.
“Matty.” I wait to go on until he looks up. “Just because what you did made me miserable, it doesn’t mean I enjoy seeingyoumiserable.” The words feel weighty on my tongue—weighty and true. “You’ve changed since we were close, yeah. Had different priorities that led you to some things I think you probably regret. You weren’t always like that, though, so I’m choosing to take that as proof that you can change back.” I pause, then add, “If you want to.”
The fire crackles and sparks.
As the silence expands between us, I realize I haven’t acknowledged the fact that he finally owned up to his betrayal.
“Thanks for your apology,” I say.
I knew I needed to hear it in order to close the door on our painful past, but I didn’t realize how much lighter I would feel. It doesn’t excuse his behavior, everything he told me, but at least I understand it a little better now.
One comment he made stuck out in the moment:It was time to choose something formeinstead of just tagging along with the careeryouhad chosen here in Cali.
I’m honestly not sure I chose this career so much as I fell into it. Mydad took me out here so often as a kid, and then as a teen, that when someone offered to start paying me for it—part-time at first, and later, full-time—it just made sense.
I was good at it, a natural.
I loved being out in the wild; I loved seeing people expand their worldview.
It made me feel close to my dad to hike the trails he adored but could no longer experience himself—like I was hanging on to part of him, maybe even doing itforhim.
This trek has been different.
I didn’t realize how much I could relate to Matteo’s desire for adventure…that just as his was born out of an aversion to stagnancy, mine might be, too. Not once did I expect that this active job—where I’m always moving, rarely sleeping in the same place two nights in a row—might start to feel like I’m stuck, moving in circles but ultimately going nowhere.
I always considered myself such a risk-taker, purely because it comes with the territory: there’s nothing inherently safe about sleeping under the stars, or navigating tricky terrain and surprise downpours, or rappelling off the side of a cliff.
Those things, for me, though?
