There is a certain bliss in solo travel. A chance to only listen to the voices in your head, to heed only the internal whisper. The cacophony of life melts away to reveal only the sound of your bubbles. I miss my daughter painfully but love her all that much more dearly when I see her. As an extrovert it is my chance to re-energize; to regain something I have lost along the way. I would like to pretend it makes me a better husband or father but no, it just makes me happy.
Before a recent solo trip to Tulum I took my wife out to dinner and told her how much I appreciate these trips. She looked across the table at me and told me, flat out, that she resented me for it. I pondered that for a minute and told her I was totally OK with that. Because I am.