I got AI to convert my mass of GPS tracks from JSON to KML. Now I have individual KML records of almost every day from 2014 to today, though many from 2014 appear to be incomplete. Complete or not this map summoned memories of the worst trip I ever went on with the always-angry ex. This time it seemed she was just hungry for conflict, and for the 2 nights we were there she would not let it go. What happened was we took a commuter line from NYC to North Philadelphia, where we connected to the SEPTA to 30th Street. At the transfer station she said she had to use the bathroom. I sat on the train with our shared piece of luggage. As she peed the train departed, 10 minutes earlier than either of us expected. We were separated. No big deal, right? She had her ticket on her and could get the next train in 10 minutes. That is what happened but the drama that unfolded was like something from a bad comic book. In her mind she thought I had arranged for this to happen so I could have some alone time. No truth to this but on the other hand I cannot lie, it was a bit of a relief to have those 20 or so minutes to myself. She had been uneasy and nervous this entire trip for reasons I could not gather. The instant the train left without her I texted her that this had happened. She strongly suggested that I get off the train and wait for the next one at one of the stops between North Philadelphia and 30th Street so that I could board her train. That made no sense as it risked my already-punched ticket not being valid on another train, or so I thought. It just didn’t make sense to take evasive measures when we’d only be separated for at most 20 minutes. She texted that her battery was at 50%, as if this mattered, as if 20 minutes apart was going to kill her battery and we’d be separated forever. More veiled anger and insecurity came across the texts until, upon her arrival at 30th Street where I sat waiting, she ripped into me with a fury like no other, shouting “THIS DOESN’T HAPPEN!” I felt ambushed, like I was drowning in a rage so wild and feral I could barely even understand her words. She marched into the main area of the 30th Street Station and screamed at me non-stop for what felt like an eternity. People stopped in their tracks to watch and listen. I was afraid this would wash up on YouTube, and for all I know maybe it did. If it weren’t for the uncancelable hotel reservation and the fact that this was Philadelphia I would have just gone home and left her there wallowing in her rage. In the cab to the hotel she did not say one word, and the silence continued for I don’t know how long. At the hotel room I tried to suggest that getting separated on trips like this is not uncommon, and in this case it was simply no big deal. She had none of this but then, paradoxically, went on to reminisce about the times she traveled with her female friends and got separated, describing those occurrences as funny and capricious. As often happened with her there came a point in her delivery of anger where she knew she was wrong but it was too late to turn back or admit it. She took this one to the end of our relationship, insisting I deliberately boarded that train knowing it was not the one we’d planned on. The train I ended up on was not even supposed to be there, it should have left several minutes earlier. We expected a 10 minute layover and both expressed surprise that a train was waiting. This obvious mistake meant nothing to her. She insisted I did this on purpose to get away from her for as much time as possible. This ludicrous scenario became truth to her, my denials bedamned. In the face of this kind of rage I have no chance. She knew this. The louder she yelled, the angrier she became, the more she felt victorious. I could have ended the relationship that day but it seemed impossible. We somehow found a way to make the trip work well for both of us but on the train back she couldn’t let it go that we’d been separated for 20 minutes. We did not last a whole lot longer after this debacle. Anger like hers only escalates, and there came a threat of physical assault that snapped something in me. A moment where she had a look of murder in her eyes and she had me pinned to the ground in the middle of 30th Street as people in the apartments came to their windows to see what was happening. That was the moment I said “I can’t be in this anymore.” I should have said it on the day of this map.
