Hi, Aio. H-Aio. (Aio gets upset if I don’t do my hellos and goodbyes.)

Aio rolled into my life on the front of an Omnium Cargo powered by her now-ex boyfriend. She was, (and still is,) teeny tiny, with the personality of a real, full-grown human being.
She is probably going to assault me for writing the last bit. Oh well.

I have always had a lot of female friends. For as long as I can remember, it’s been that way. Maybe it’s because I wasn’t into all the stereotypical “guy” things when I was growing up. I played basketball but was terrible at it. I have never played American football. I was the slowest guy on the Cross Country team in High School. And I was a pretty good swimmer, but I attribute that mostly to the fact that I was a bit fat, so had an easier time floating. Not to say that girls didn’t participate in these same sports when I was growing up, it just worked out that my female friends were more interested in doing other things than the cliché American High School standards might suggest.

In 2023 when I was about to turn 40, I wanted to spend it in Georgia (the country), and preferably not alone. I knew Aio fairly well at the time and asked if she wanted to join. I didn’t expect her to say yes, but she did, and away we went. And this is where we really became friends. Aio became my Mini-ven.

When you fly to or from Tbilisi, you fly at hours that seem unnatural. You land at 3 in the morning. You board at 4 in the morning. It sucks, but it means you get an extra day when you arrive. I landed at 2:40 in the morning and waited for Aio to touch down. We got our rental car and began Aio’s Georgian Vape-cation. Our plan was to drive directly to Borjomi, but instead we drove first to Tskaltubo, with a quick stop at a kiosk to get Aio’s ultra-important USB-C Vape toys. Thank God that addiction is done now…

For the next days we hiked, explored, napped, ate, and swam. We fed and played with countless stray dogs, swam in a Soviet-built outdoor pool at the foot of the Georgian/Northern Ossetian Caucasian mountains. We were beckoned to breakfast by our Georgian hostess who called us “children”. We met the best dog, Trina, on a trail near Borjomi. We met a dog who chased a shepherd’s sheep away, getting me assaulted (read: slapped in the face with the biggest calloused hand you’ve ever seen) on the last day of my 30s. Aio drove the rental car a total of 4 kilometers and managed to rip off the better part of the skid plate in that distance. And the best part of the trip was Aio telling me the wild story of her life. A story which, most of us would not have been able to endure. A story which makes Aio as rare and unique as she is today.

I consider Aio to be one of my closest friends. I don’t get to see her as much as I would like to, but I’m working on it. These stories are always just so much harder to write when the person is close close. I hesitate. I think that I need more photos. More time. Any excuse to not sit down and write about my friend in a vulnerable way. Can two thousand words ever do justice? Can twenty photos? Fifty perhaps? Is two years enough of a snapshot to show the person accurately? The reader doesn’t notice if there is something missing from the story, and I doubt that Aio would think twice about what is not said nor shown here today.

So here you go. I’ve finished marinating. Context is served.

Oh no, I forgot to talk about Alba!! I hope she won’t be upset with me.

Thanks, Aio.

(Goodb-Aio)