Four year ago, I was traveling on my own for the first time basically ever – my 48-hour trip to Bali. On my second (and last) night on the island, I decided to treat myself to a lovely Italian dinner in Seminyak, a ritzy and now tourist-overrun beach neighborhood of Bali. I was sitting alone at the bar feeling free but also slightly self-conscious.

I felt the air pressure change next to me and felt the shadow of someone sitting down on the stool to my left. Instead of stiffening and staring down or straight ahead, I forced myself to turn and acknowledge this shadow’s presence. He drummed up a conversation and was clearly a bit nervous, which I found disarming and less threatening…almost charming. I felt myself relax a bit as he explained that he was in the back room for someone’s birthday party, he was a surfer and furniture-maker who had split time between Bali and California for the last 15+ years, etc. He was turning 38 the next day. I could tell he was nervous because he kept almost falling off the chair and then complaining about the screws in the chair in some incoherent way that seemed like nerves.

Eventually, his group of friends showed up from the back of the restaurant – a mixed crew of Indonesians and non-Indonesians, many of them women. They were planning to go out to some clubs and invited me. I wanted to go back to my hotel and have a quiet, peaceful night (or at least that’s what felt safe), but I wanted to be bold and take a chance. I forced myself to say “OK.” I took a deep breath and smiled nervously. They also looked surprised. There was some hustle and bustle around transportation options, but then we were off.

The rest of the evening was a blur. At midnight, it became his 38th birthday, and I’m sure we had a few shots to celebrate. There were many drinks and shots. We bounced from bar to bar to club. Then we decided to separate from the group. Maybe it was 4am or 5am at that point. We went back to the Intercontinental and stayed up all night long talking about our lives – long talks of past loves, family, our struggles, the new job I was starting, Balinese culture, how the island had changed over time, our dreams, our thoughts of what we thought our dreams might be, our life stories – and then passed out. In the morning, we walked around Jimbaran and had some traditional Indonesian food at a warung. He spoke Indonesian in the local dialect. I was impressed. Then I checked out, and we rotated between the bar, pool, swim-up bar, and beach and continued to talk all day long. Day turned into evening, and it was time for me to catch my flight back to Singapore. It was bittersweet to say goodbye, and he genuinely seemed sad. We talked about me visiting him in California. He helped me with my bags into the taxi, and as we pulled away from the Intercon, I looked back, and he was waving goodbye with the sweetest expression on his face. It made my heart melt a little, enough for me to remember the sensation pretty vividly after 4.5 years (I generally have a horrible memory). We exchanged some emails in the first year, but neither of us made the effort to take a flight somewhere to see the other. At the time, I was fresh out of a long-term relationship and didn’t even realize people did stuff like that. It all seemed so impractical.

While I was in Japan last week, it occurred to me that he might be in Bali. I took a chance and messaged him. He was there! He had a car and would be able to show me around too. I should text him when I got in. When I arrived at my hotel the first night, I texted him. He was going to the Gili Islands for his friend’s birthday. He welcomed and invited me warmly and offered to arrange for a driver. He mentioned the beauty of the islands, the quiet, the snorkeling. “You’re going to love it.” That would be funny. I would have seen him for 3 days, all of which would have been birthdays. Weird. The next morning he tried to find me a boat, but they were all full. He said I could take one the following morning, and he’d come pick me up on Gili Air (the quietest island of the three Gilis). I thought about it…I was nervous. I wasn’t sure if we would still connect. I didn’t want to be trapped and in an awkward situation. I didn’t really want to party. So I went to Ubud for a few days instead. We agreed to catch up when we were both back in southern Bali.

After a few days in Ubud, I was ready to come back to beach life. He sent me a pindrop to a villa where he was staying, but we agreed to meet at “Nirmala Ungasen,” which I parroted to a taxi driver and then found myself at a supermarket. I Whatsapp’d him upon my approach…and there he was. Looking like his surfer self with a hat, sunglasses, laid-back look. And it all just felt normal. We went shopping for the house and went back to an amazing villa overlooking all of Bali.

For the past few days, I’ve been hanging out with surfers, surfing, swimming in the pool, learning all about the local scene and politics, eating good food, and binge-drinking. Sunset at Uluwatu, wading around by the waves near a cave, talking under the stars about life and all its wonderfulness and its tragedies. The stillborn death of his sister’s child and the ensuing divorce with her husband who she knew because he had been his best friend growing up in Telluride, CO. His uncle who became a paraplegic after a bad ski accident and who moved to El Salvador and married his caretaker. The trip where he took him to Botswana. His 10-year relationship with an older woman. We’re both older and less free than we were when we were drunk (wasted) 4.5 years ago, so the details are less free-flowing and the spirit a bit less carefree and expectant for the future.

Actually, a lot has happened logistically too. We had to welcome booking.com guests at the villa (which he built 15 years ago) and deal with the Russians renting his house who with zero notice said they were moving out. Moving back to his house. Dealing with dogs. I found out that he’s basically the original white guy surfer in Bali and knows everyone and everything, which has been a super interesting experience. The conversations among the group I’ve been hanging out with has much more to do with tides, moons, and wave formations. It’s been different, and I’ve imagined an alternative life for myself.

I’ve learned that there are all sorts of ways to live life. So many people have semi-retired to Bali. Others are creating things like yoga boats to sail around Bali and Lombok. New businesses are cropping up like every day visibly on the streets in the Bukit peninsula, and there is an enterprising feeling. I’ve met couch-surfers on their travel year abroad. One dude with a web development type company who’s literally been bouncing around the world for 20+ years, unsettled and looking to settle down finally. A former mafia hitman with oddly the biggest heart ever. The thing that’s felt good has been everyone’s spirit (well, almost everyone). I’ve felt connected to people very different from myself in an ineffable way.

I have one more hour to decide whether or not I’m going to leave and go back to NYC tomorrow. I’m waiting to hear one word – “stay” – and I’m pretty sure I’m not going to hear it.