On my top ten list of places to see before I die, Helsinki wasn't even in the top 20. It wasn't that I had anything against Finland so much as there was nothing specific drawing me to it. And yet when the opportunity arose to go, I jumped at the chance. It helped that the opportunity was essentially a party trip. While I'd have the chance to visit some interesting spots around Helsinki, the entire point of the trip was to fly to Kittila in Lapland to partake in the Midnight Sun celebration, wherein I'd have the opportunity to drink, eat and dance under a sun that never set on the official start of summer solstice with 400 other invited guests from around the world.

The next thing I knew we were landing in Helsinki.

After a good night's sleep and a morning spent hopping from sauna to sauna in Glo's spa, I joined our group feeling chipper and heard tales of everyone's drunkenness - they'd all gone out clubbing as I'd opted to crash after dinner. We shopped for a while as a group before I begged off and went back to bed. My throat was starting to close in on me, and by the time I awoke from my nap, I knew I couldn't deny it any more - I was getting sick. And if I was going to make it to the Midnight Sun party, I was going to have to beg off from that evening's dinner cruise around Helsinki in favor of rest.

I called Kelly, our tour organizer, and explained my conundrum.

"No worries," she said. "Come to my room and get some DayQuil and Advil and sit this one out. You won't be missing anything."

I hung up the phone and made my way to her room, knocking on the door. She pulled it open and welcomed me inside. As I entered, explaining the tickle in my throat, I looked to my right and saw a man sitting at her desk, tapping away at her computer. I couldn't tell how tall he was, but he had salt and pepper hair, olive-toned skin and dark, expressive eyes. As I was speaking with Kelly, he loudly interrupted several times.

He both irritated the crap out of me and made me want to straddle him on that chair so I could look deeply into those expressive eyes before I kissed him, slowly, deeply and sensually.

I didn't know where this feeling was coming from, but something about it wasn't right in the slightest. I wasn't sure what was going on in my head, but I also knew I wasn't in the mood to deconstruct the inner workings of my brain having just taken a hit of DayQuil. I thanked Kelly and retired to my room, ordered room service, turned on Dreamgirls and tuned out.

The next morning we finished breakfast and hit the sauna, then met our group downstairs again to hop on the bus taking us back to the airport so we could catch our flight to Kittila. As we got on the bus, the man with the salt and pepper hair grabbed the microphone from the driver's seat and loudly asked if anyone had seen his underwear. I jammed my fingers in my ears - he was loud, tinny, and making my sinus headache worse.

"You are a loud, loud man, Joe," Colleen told him as he passed our seats. He just laughed.

As annoyed as I was, the twinkle in his eye still caught me. I was determined to get to the bottom of it.

Our group of 17 expanded to lord knows how many at that point, but enough to count for two chartered planes to Kittila, which rested in the province of Lapland above the Arctic Circle. I was mildly annoyed that we wouldn't have the opportunity to visit Rovaniemi, which is where Santa Claus makes his home. Alas, my Christmas obsession would not have the opportunity to meet my travel obsession.

Anyway. Our flight was short - only an hour or so - and before we knew it we were checking into another hotel, taking another nap, and meeting back down in the lobby just in time for us to board another bus, which would drive us to the middle of nowhere. Literally. It stopped in the middle of a dirt road and out we went, into the wilderness down a path through the trees that was intermittently interrupted with Finnish musicians, singers and performers. Finally, we came to a clearing that brought us to the entrance of the event. It looked like we were on someone's farm land right next to a lake, except we were still surrounded by forest. It was beautiful.

We were greeted with reindeer jerky and shots of Finlandia vodka blended with tree sap. Colleen and I clinked our shot glasses together and said, "Kippis," the Finnish word for "Cheers." And then we sipped our shot. It was only 7pm. With dinner just starting, four bands, a world-class DJ and mixologists from all over the world creating a million different drinks, we had a long night ahead of us.

I joined Elisa and Karen, and started chatting with them and some of their friends when Joe walked up.

"What's your name right now?" he asked.

"Right now, or in general," I quipped.

Everyone laughed and he said, "Both."

"In general it's Carly," I said. "Right now, it's seniorita."

He laughed. "Okay, seniorita, are you feeling better?"

"Yes," I said.

"I'm Joe."

I nodded. "I know, Colleen said your name on the bus."

"Do you need anything to drink?"

I shook my head. "I'm fine for now."

"You sure?"

I waved him off. He smiled and walked off to the bar, and I started analyzing how I felt. Though I wasn't as drawn to him as I'd initially been in Kelly's room, there was still something inside me that felt a slight magnetic pull. So an hour later - after everyone had started partying in full swing - I decided to see what would happen if I asked him some questions about love. We were all bellied up to the bar, doing shots and alternating them with water, when I turned to Joe and asked, in full earshot of everyone around us, "Have you ever been in real love, Joe?"

He stopped, then his eyes darted around while a wide smile broke out on his handsome face. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I don't know if I have, and I'm learning. So I want to know others' experiences with it."

"Have you been in love?" he shot back.

"To the best of my ability."

"What happened?"

I shrugged. "We had to split up. It wasn't working. Now stop avoiding my question."

He laughed and leaned in to hug me, planting a kiss on my cheek.

"That's not an answer, Joe," I pressed.

He leaned in and muttered into my ear, "I'm getting divorced. In my country we have to marry someone when we impregnate them, and that is why I'm married, and also why I'm getting divorced."

"Are you divorcing to be with someone else?"

He smiled and hugged me again.

"Answer," I demanded.

"Why do you get to ask? And why do I want to answer?"

"Because," I told him simply.

"Yes," he said.

"How do you know that it's love?"

"Because it's different," he said. "It's different, and it's sad."

I frowned. I knew love was complicated, but wasn't it supposed to be beautiful and happy, even when it was hard? I didn't want to hear that it was sad. So I asked him, "Why sad?"

"Because I leave her in two days."

I put two and two together. "She's here, isn't she?"

He nodded, and with that, he took off.

Regardless of my need to question people endlessly about their lives, I could respect a person's right to privacy. In fact, often before I start drilling someone on something, I'll tell them to warn me if I'm getting too personal. Interestingly, the vast majority of people opt to answer everything I ask - and I've asked some pretty intimate things. But there was something about Joe's reaction that made me think what I was asking him wasn't cutting too close so much as he was avoiding being real.

So I observed. I watched him flit about and loudly make himself the center of attention, I watched him shy away when I asked him simple, surface questions, and I watched him disappear, and noticed Karen gone soon afterward. When they reappeared an hour or so later, they were standing near the bar chatting casually, like a couple of friends might. Most people wouldn't have known, but I could feel the difference between them.

Later, Joe pulled me aside.

"Answer me one question," he asked.

"I'll answer any - I've got nothing to hide," I told him.

"Are you interested in anyone here?"

I shook my head.

"Nobody?" he pressed.

"No," I said. "Nobody."

"Why not?"

"Because I need to be by myself for a while, and really figure some things out," I told him. "I've been hurt too many times before, and I've lost myself too many times before. And I don't want to do that again."

Joe nodded. "You have been hurt. I can see it in your eyes."

I blinked.

"And you're also lying."

He walked away again.

And in that moment I realized that if I wanted Joe, I could have him. And I also realized what it was deep down inside me that made me attracted to him.

He reminded me of Martin.

To be continued...