06: Helsinki Café (Pt. 2): The Avalanche

[2-minute read]

I love that Woodward’s patio story, but let me get us back on track because it’s not as random as it sounds.

The friends who hosted the Cinco de Mayo party had been having trouble after he’d thrown her laptop across their condo in a fit of jealousy and a burst of rage.

A close friend had never confessed such a situation to me, even though I’d seen similar scenes in movies and on TV.

When I brought this up with my then-boyfriend in a small café in Helsinki, I wasn’t prepared for what came next.

His body language shifted almost immediately. Shoulders tight. Eyes down. Something closing.

Him: “How are those friends doing, anyway?”

Me: “Well, [the boyfriend] threw [the girlfriend’s] laptop across their living room recently. So, needless to say, they’re having some problems at the moment.”

Then came the quiet rumble — the avalanche before it breaks. “Have you ever known someone with anger management issues?” he asked me.

As I read him, I could tell that half of him was barely holding on while half of him was already becoming undone.

“Sure,” I said. “My dad (a recreational boxer) has worked in counselling over the years. My brother, too (he was a talented wingman in hockey and unafraid to drop the gloves). Both go to therapy now. Heck, even Tony Soprano goes to therapy.”

Then, without warning, he said: “I hurt [ex-girlfriend] once.”

Years of shame, layered with grief and disgust, began to crumble from his conscience. Unsuspecting, there, in that crowded Helsinki café. It felt like I was witnessing a serious avalanche.

It was visceral — dramatic and unmistakable — less like a confession and more like a reckoning. Something that’d been clutching on to for dear life, finally giving way.

To be honest, at first I didn’t believe it could be true. Never once had I felt physically unsafe in his presence. My mind reached for denial. Then, as he owned up to it, he explained how lucky he was that she hadn’t pressed charges.

Something inside me quietly recalibrated.

I sat there, witnessing what happens when shame finds safety. When truth finally has space to breathe.

It was raw, heartbreaking, and somehow beautiful.

A part of me went still — not calm, but alert. Like my body was taking notes before my mind caught up. And in some ways, I don’t think that’s ever really gone away.

I didn’t yet know what this meant for us. I only knew that something had shifted — the mountain’s terrain was no longer the same. And I couldn’t un-feel it.

If he’d told me this at home, I would have created distance. Encouraging counselling before our next date.

But here we were, just three days into a five and a half week holiday in Europe after dating him for a year.

Two and a half weeks later… it would happen to me.

Up next >> Chapter 07: Milan, Cinque Terre, Florence & Venice