OUR PLAYLIST | JENLISA

THIRTY-NINE

Jennie

Playlist: Ful Stop | Radiohead
***

The second I’d hung up with Jason, I’d darted around my room and packed my things to leave. I grabbed Love, said goodbye to Patricia, and had Paul drive me to the airport in Duluth so I could catch the next flight to Vegas. I didn’t tell Lisa I was coming. She was so low, I wanted to surprise her. I’d told her good night when we hung up and she wasn’t expecting to hear from me until the morning.

The last five weeks had been torture. It was great seeing Jisoo, and I loved cooking with Lisa’s mom. I’d gotten sleep, I’d gotten healthy—and none of it compared to being with her. Not even a little.

It was going to take me at least another month to finish the piece, and I didn’t have another month in me without her. I’d already been debating coming back to the road early when we’d had our argument, and that was the deciding factor.

What she’d said scared me.

I knew this separation had been hard for her. That’s why I’d made it a point to always be happy when we talked, so she’d know her sacrifice wasn’t a waste. But now I thought maybe I should have let her see how awful it was without her. Honestly, I couldn’t even focus on what I was here to do. I spent most of my days trying to distract myself from the fact that I felt too in a funk to paint.

We were simply no good without each other. This separation had been the proof. We were both miserable. I had to go back. I wanted to fall asleep in her arms tonight and every night from now on.

Every step I took to getting back to her—getting off the plane, climbing into an Uber, walking into the hotel—made me feel elated, like I was coming home.

The road was home.

It was miraculous that I felt that way after how much it had worn me down—but it was true. Home was wherever Lisa was, and knowing this gave me the world’s biggest second wind. This time was going to be different. Very different.

So much of what I’d struggled with on tour was mental. I’d kept thinking about all the things I wasn’t able to do and looking forward to the day it would be over instead of appreciating that every minute out there was time with her. And now that I’d seen what being apart was like, my brain had done a complete 180.

I could do this. I could do the crap out of this.

I’d learn to sleep on the bus. That was the very first thing on my list. I’d figure out how to eat better. I’d go with her to the gym and exercise when she did. I’d get a Crock-Pot and make us dinner so we could eat real food. I mean, the bus had a kitchen. Why not?

And why couldn’t I paint on the road if we drove at night? That would mean during the day the bus would be parked. I could paint during her sound check. I’d have to be careful, figure out a way to make sure the canvas was secure when we were moving, but it wasn’t impossible. I didn’t have to lose myself in Lisa’s career, I could find myself here. Reinvent myself. Evolve.

She was going to marvel at the new me.

And you know what? Maybe we could have kids. If we got the bus outfitted with the right sleeping setup, had help? We could do anything.

I was going to channel my inner nomad. Make this work for both of us and turn these years into some of the best of our lives. Reclaim myself and support her at the same time, learn to love it. Because making her happy was the only way I could be happy—and I knew she felt that way too. That was what was bothering her about all this. She thought she was robbing me of a life. But she was my life—and we could have it all.