(Now when traveling with others I just try to take the path of least resistance and do all the things that they want to do. It rarely results in a great trip for me, but it deters any useless bickering that could sour a 'good enough' getaway into a miserable one.) The best travel experiences of my life have been the ones I've done solo, and I wear that like a badge of honor. Maybe it's an only child thing; maybe it's because I've always functioned better as a lone wolf type. Regardless, I most enjoy being able to experience things for myself by myself. (Plus I meet many more interesting people that way.)
In early 2006 I had been dating a guy for a little over three years. It was one of those relationships that was fantastic except for when we were fighting, which was constant - you know, the kind of cripplingly insecure relationships you have in your twenties. We would break up and make up every spring for progressively longer periods of time, until finally after five years it burned itself out entirely. I understand it all now, and I admit to my fair share of crazy there. Problem was, it was one of the worst periods of my life and that had absolutely nothing to do with him; his only crime was that he was there for me to take it out on.