She knew if she flew to go visit him it would be his last chance. It had to be for her mental health, as this fascination was getting rather tiring. When she arrived, she waited eight hours to see him. The first night was great, besides the fact that she couldn't sleep. After getting picked up, she met two of his friends. Not only were they kind, but they were interesting and funny. When everyone was going to bed, she unfortunately had high hopes that watching something while sitting next to him would cause him to relax. It didn't. She lay awake on that couch alone for the vast majority of the night thinking about what she had got herself into. The next day was good besides the fact that she was running on little to no sleep. She met another one of his friends, and they all went hiking together. She played the part of wing woman for the day, which only solidified her doubts about being there in the first place. At least she knew now, and her fascination could die right then and there. It would make things easier eventually, and she would now no longer be able to dwell in the past. The rest of that day, she was quiet, blaming it on the lack of sleep, not the realization. The girl and guy went out to dinner, and then resumed watching what they had the previous night. As she figured, even if they were on his bed, he would only relax to a certain point. She didn't even bother this time. When it was time for bed, she got up and lay in her sleeping bag on his floor until she could sleep. The third day she was left alone. After a quiet acknowledgment from him as he left for work, she decided to explore. After being gone most of the day, she got back to his place, wanting to wind down before he arrived home. She got maybe fifteen minutes before the door slowly cracked open and he stood in the doorway. This was the first time during the whole trip where she saw bits of him she remembered begin to show themselves. They went to dinner, and a bookstore. That's when she began to feel uncomfortable. Looking at a book featuring the artwork of Goya, he came up to her from the side. She wasn't sure if it was flirting, even though those types of actions were his typical way of showing that. All she hoped is that he wouldn't see that anything was wrong, so she tried to go with it. Thankfully, it was interrupted by meeting up with more of his friends. These, like all the previous ones she had met were fantastic. When it came time for bed, he fell on his bed, muttering good night as she once again took the floor in his room. The final day at his house she was left alone once again. That's when, as much as she hated to do it, she made the decision that she would not be spending her final night sleeping on the floor, not even being treated like a friend. They went out to dinner with another friend that night, then made the trek to her final destination of the drip. The car ride was a bunch of small talk and silence. Finally, he dropped her off. She might have hugged him a little to long.