My first night on board I got drunk. Although I made it back to my room without mishap, it was something I’d never done before. I enjoyed my drunkenness, my idiotic laughter.
I enjoyed the breaking free of all the restrictions I had worn.
When I awoke, I did have a bit of a hangover, but went to breakfast, got a few aspirins. Then I enjoyed walking around. Doing nothing, with no pressure, being no one. No one and no one there I had to perform for.
In a short time, I was bored but it was an acceptable boredom. It was not a frustrated boredom, it wasn’t an enforced boredom, it was just having nothing to do.
Nothing to do and nothing to prove.
I felt tension, pressure dropping off me as sweat, as the years I inflicted myself with my false marriage evaporated.
When I felt easier, I spent the rest of day in casual conversation with anyone who spoke to me, ate my meals, and did not drink as much at dinner.