Then, as the immensity of the desert continued to open up for me, conversely, I began to feel suffocated sharing the car space with my boyfriend. It wasn’t that I didn’t love him or even enjoy his company, but rather, I was learning that this trip had really been for me; perhaps his presence was a hindrance rather than an asset to my own personal journey. Instead of feeling as if each mile was contributing to the restoration of my relationship, what I felt was something far better — I was happy of my own volition. As I drove, I came to peace with the idea that maybe codependence wasn’t what I needed. Then, we made it: the Grand Canyon, the single most beautiful place I had visited to date.