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The Blister on my Heal

It started as a slight irritation and then grew into a dull ache.  Soon enough it was a full blister, throbbing with pain, oozing with every step.

How ironic that her flip-flops were the cause.
Because she’s just that: a constant hurt that won’t subside.

He lent me the sandals, one day after the dog destroyed mine.
“Just keep them,” he suggested with a shrug.  “It’s not like she’ll be coming back to claim them.”
They were two sizes too big and covered in a hideous pattern of flamingos.  Even Jill commented that they looked wrong on me, yet I continued to wear them.

Perhaps I was too lazy to find new ones or maybe I was just used to being surrounded by reminders of her

When we first met, his closet was filled with all her stuff, everything she left behind and intended to return to, but never did.
When we decided to date exclusively, he removed up all her things and set me a picture of his half-empty wardrobe.  It made me smile briefly, until I realized the clothing had simply been boxed up and pushed out of sight, but not quite out of mind.  Just like her.  The bulk of it may have been packed away but some items still remained.  Her pink heart covered raincoat was still shoved under the seat of his car, a constant reminder of how fresh his wounds really are.

They still talk, comment on each other’s various posts and photos, but I know it’s never about me.  Because in her case, I’m the one out of sight.

Sometimes I wonder if I am the most insecure woman or the most naive fool who ever lived.
I can’t remember ever feeling such intense jealousy and resentment, especially towards a total stranger.  It’s disgusting.

Yet, he’s not without his own fears: that I’ll meet someone else, that I’ll up and leave, that I’ll change my mind.  In the end we both run the risk of getting hurt, we both have the potential to break each other’s heart, but that’s no reason to call it quits.


Since we made that transition into exclusivity I’ve felt bogged down with uncertainty and anxiety.  I’m constantly weighing the pros and cons, debating whether I should just up and leave, or try harder to let my guard down.  I wonder if he genuinely likes me or just sees me as something he needs to lock down.  I’m not an object, I’m not his personal prostitute, and I’m not her or his ex-wife.  I’m just me.  I don’t know how to be anyone else.
I know we have no staying power, but right now, being with him makes me happy.  Too happy.


I’ve thought a lot about it over the last couple weeks and have come to a realization.  The reason my relationships take on the same forms, it because I always get in my head about them.  I can’t decide if I should pull away or totally commit and I drive myself (and my boyfriend) absolutely crazy until it decimates and I fall to pieces, fearful that I’ve fucked up and made the wrong decision.
What if this time, rather than waste so much time and energy thinking about him, I focused it on myself and let the relationship run its course?  I’m happiest when I feel independent, so why not continue to live my life on my terms, whilst having a beautiful boy on the side.  My rules, my schedule, my life and if he has a problem with it, then the door is right there.  I need to put myself first and this so-called relationship second.

Easier said than done right?

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Moon Musings

Why shouldn’t I write here?  Underneath mother moon, so full she looks likely to burst.  She shines down upon me, inspiring me, my cancer self ruled by her glorious power.  The waves crash beside me and I can see just fine, so why not?  The sea.  My fucking one true love.  Just being in it’s presence, hearing its gentle lullaby soothes me.  

Here I sit, asking myself: Is the reason I feel alienated from my co-workers because I alienate myself?  I spend a lot of time with Nick and probably miss out on potential bonding time.  In retrospect, maybe I spend all this time with him in an effort to get out of the hostel.  I like the people I know and the snobbish ones, I don’t care to know.
And Nick.  What the fuck should I do about Nick?!  He has kids!  But we did finally discuss them…

It was one night night, after he sleep sex attacked me (it’s like he’s sleep walking, but all he does is feel me up and mumble gibberish) we both ended up wide awake and talking.  As much as I dislike being woken from my sweet slumber, we end up having our best conversations in the veil of darkness, partially awake, partially in a dream.  It was during one of these conversations that the subject was broached.  He said that he would like to have kids, someday in the future.  I responded, “I was under the impression you already have children…”
He got really quiet and finally said, “Yeah, I didn’t know how to tell you.  I was going to, that night at the brewery but then you and Jill started talking about how you would never date a guy who had kids and what a turn off it was…”
Shit.
I apologized, but scolded him for not telling me something so monumental.  Yet, since my discovery and now that I have had time to reflect on it, I feel okay about it.
He began telling me about his ex-wife who he met at his time as a Youth Councillor through his church.  She was a recovering drug addict and 6 years his senior who convinced him to rush into a relationship, marriage and kids… Things got violent apparently on her part, although she accused him of such behaviour as well.
“This doesn’t change the way I feel about you,” I told him and knew I meant it.
Maybe because they’re not physically present in his life, it’s easier to cope with.  Or maybe it’s because I still don’t see a future for us, even though I kind of, sort of, want to believe it could be possible.

It’s all so confusing for me.  When I’m with him, I feel amazing; I’m confident and relaxed and completely myself.  When we’re apart, I’m relieved and yet, I miss him.  Like I said, it’s all very confusing.
The other day he referred to himself as my boyfriend and even though I keep saying I don’t want to label it, I felt tingles.
Deep down, I know I’m just filling some big hole in my life.  Wow, I had completely intended to write ‘his life‘ but instead I wrote ‘my life‘.  Isn’t that telling?  Total Freudian slip.  There you have it.  We’re both using each other in the same way.  And perhaps, just for right now, it’s okay.  This thing we have may be fleeing, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be intense and raw and beautiful all the same.  Perhaps, knowing it has an expiry date is what makes it so easy to love so honestly and openly.

Oh Nick, what are you doing to me?  Did we meet in another life?  Or several?  You’ve got me such a fucking mess.

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Fear of the Unknown

Why don’t I want to write about him?
Why can’t I really talk about him?
Even when I do let myself think about him, it’s for brief moments, in small flashes, I never let myself go to deep.

Is it because I think he’s some fleeting image not meant to last?
Is it because I know it’ll never work out?
Is it because I know if I let myself think too hard about him, I’ll talk myself out of it?
Because the last thing I want to do is stop… The way I feel right now, I couldn’t if I tried.

Not when he’s always looking at me intensely with those bright eyes, a faint smile on his lips.  And when I ask why, he simply says, “You’re so beautiful.”
Not when he wants to cook for me, open doors for me and massage me, just cause he can.
Not when he picks up a case of ginger beer for me, because he remembered that I mentioned I was craving it the other day.
Not when he has a rock hard body, perfect penis, beautiful face and an accent I could die for.
Not when he is the best sex of my life.
No. Fucking. Way.

I tried to convince myself I was in control and it was all under my terms, but this weekend I realized how hard I was falling and now I’m terrified of hitting the rock bottom.


When I think back, it started a couple weeks ago while I was scrolling through Instagram.
I came across a photo that made my heart race.
“Sunday hikes with this guy <3” her caption read.  The photo hadn’t even finished loading, but I knew what it was and yet still, I waited.  I subjected myself to the pain of seeing her and Dan standing in front of a big tree, smiling, arms wrapped tightly around one another.
I already knew, but this confirmed it; I didn’t expect it to sting so bad.
But it was this incident that gave me the extra incentive to message back the cute guy I’d met at the bar and ask him out.  I wanted to move on, I wanted to meet a nice guy and experience some intimacy and I didn’t want to wait.
Apparently, this guy did not want the same things as his texts went from flirty to downright creepy.  I told him to forget it, but I still really wanted to go on a date, I’d actually been looking forward to it.  That’s when I decided to test the old ‘third time’s the charm’ theory and get back on Tinder.  I’d struck out in Canada and New Zealand, but maybe Australia would be a different story.

I matched with my first local guy and he messaged me right away.
He was sweet and asked a lot of questions and made interesting banter other than the usual small talk.  His pictures didn’t show much of his face, but he seemed pretty cute.  He asked me if I’d ever skateboarded and when I said no he invited me to join him for a skate.
On my way to meet him, a guy cruised by on a skateboard while I was coming in on my bike.  I looked him over and smiled and he smiled back.  Could this be the guy? I wondered, hopeful.  He passed without a word.  Damn, too good to be true!
I locked up my bike and wandered down the parking lot and saw him walking back and we both started laughing at ourselves for missing each other.  We walked down to the beach so he could stretch out.  He was very talkative, kind of ADD, but I didn’t mind, it took the pressure off of me to talk.  He treated me to ice cream and the two of us skated down the bike path and continued into another parking lot.  We chatted, quoted stupid movies, laughed and had a sword fight with two sticks.  I walked with him back to his car and we hugged goodbye.
“I’d really like to hangout again,” he said.  “Can I add you on Facebook?”
“Sure, I can give you my number too,” I stated boldly.  He was cute, sweet and I’d had a fun time.  Besides, I was pretty sure he was hiding a banging body under his shirt and I was keen to find out for certain.
He mentioned he and his mates possibly going for beers and I suggested maybe Jill and I would meet them on the weekend.
The moment I got home, he messaged me saying how cool I was and how glad he was to have met me.
This is all too good to be true, what’s this guys angle?!

He messaged me again a couple days later asking if I wanted to check out a waterfall with he and his puppy.  I happily agreed.
When I climbed into his ute, his ridiculously cute puppy climbed onto my lap and gently licked my face.
“This is Otis, I just rescued him two weeks ago.”
Are you kidding me?  That’s fucking adorable.
We chatted intermittently on our walk down, mostly he talked, about anything and everything.
When we reached the waterfall I was dumbstruck.  It was incredible, like something out a picture book.  It was a little cool, but I didn’t care, we both dove into the perfect pool full of glowing lily pads and lined with deep cavernous rocks.  I finally got to see his beautiful body and it did not disappoint.
He turned to me and said, “You’re really cool, and I don’t think I can just be your friend.”
“Oh yeah?” I replied nervously as I looked down and giggled and he swam away.  I wanted nothing more for him to come back and kiss me.
We both said very little as we started walking back.  An anxious Otis had burrowed into my strewn clothing and they were covered in mud.  I could only laugh as he apologized profusely.

Back in the car he asked me if I’d ever been to a particular neighbouring town, when I shook my head no he asked if I wanted to check it out and grab a bite to eat.  I was meant to meet Jill, but was getting the feeling she might bail, besides I was intrigued by this creature and wanted to see where the date would go.
Neither of us quite realized how far away it was and when Jill messaged me asking if we were still hanging out, I began stalling until she eventually decided she was too tired anyway.  I felt like a bitch, but I didn’t care, I now had an unlimited time to spend with him.
We sat outside eating fish and chips and giggled while cuddling on the bench for warmth.
We started back and had been driving a while when he suddenly slowed and pulled over.
“This is really lame, but I just really want to kiss you.  Would that be alright?”
“You shouldn’t ask, you should just do.”
“I’m not a great kisser,” he admitted.
“Shut up,” I grabbed his face and kiss him gently.
When we parted he said, “But I am good at this,” and began kissing down my neck.
Oh my!
We made out in his truck for a few minutes, our hands exploring each other’s bodies while Otis squirmed uncomfortably between us.
“I don’t think I can keep kissing you like this without wanting to do more, but I don’t want to rush you or make you uncomfortable.”
“I don’t feel rushed or uncomfortable,” I said, throwing him a wicked smile.  What the fuck did I want to wait for?
“We can cruise by mine, feed the dog and see if the house is empty,” he suggested as he had just moved back and was living with his mom, but she was practically living with her boyfriend so he pretty much had the house to himself.

We stopped in another town so he could show me the river.  We walked along it with Otis while we cuddled and flirted.
We got to his empty house and sat talking some more when he suddenly asked me what I liked in the bedroom.
“Umm, no one’s really asked me that before,” I stammered.  “I’m pretty open to most things… What about you?”
He shrugged, “I’m easy.”
Shortly after, he looked at me hungrily and said, “Let’s go to the bedroom, I want to get you naked.”
We both stripped and kneeled face to face on the bed, our bodies barely touching as we kissed.  By the time his hand began exploring between my legs he moaned, “God, you’re so fucking wet!”  I was actually dripping for him.  I didn’t even know my body was capable of such a feat.
He fucked me with his gorgeous cock for close to two hours and in every different way.  He explained he had trouble finishing with a new partner, I had orgasmed twice so I didn’t care.  We finally stopped for sustenance and stood naked in the kitchen nibbling chips and cookies.  It was 2 am so I stayed the night, resting peacefully in his strong arms.

In the morning he made me breakfast and drove me to work.  I felt myself growing grumpy as he fussed around with the dog before announcing he forgot we had to empty the tailgate first.
“I’m gonna be late!” I snapped.  I tried to reign in my annoyance when he called a friend and offered to pick him up (thankfully, the friend declined.)  It’s been hard, but I’m trying not to worry about time as much because here, people generally don’t and it’s rather refreshing.  I did make it to work exactly on time by some divine miracle and gave him a quick kiss before running in.  I tried not to give him too much thought, but whenever I pictured his naked body I could feel the wetness creeping in.  He was great but I had some concerns.  From what he told me and what I’d seen on Facebook, I’d pieced together that he had dated an Irish girl for over a year and even went overseas for her, but she dumped him saying it was pointless since she didn’t plan to return to Aus.  He travelled alone for a while before returning.  They’d only been broken up a couple months and were still in contact.

Saturday night rolled around and his friends had all ditched, but he still wanted to hang with me and Jill.  Nervous, I made an excuse to blow him off, but after a few drinks, some gushing and Jill’s encouragement, I invited him to meet us at the brewery.  We were wasted, he was tipsy and Jill was giving him the third degree.  He danced with us, bought us beers and drove Jill and her bike home.  I was so impressed and turned on, I had to have him.
Back at his place, I vaguely recalled making out with him on the floors of his garage (?!) and trying to have sex but failing miserably. I woke up never remembering falling asleep.  I was meant to meet some friends for coffee in town but I was still drunk and despite his encouragement I was too terrified to take his standard ute.  On top of it all, there was no way I was leaving this beautiful, naked creature without having some better sex.  I messaged and politely ditched a much too understanding friend and climbed back into his arms.

By early afternoon our conversation had somehow led to me being bound to the headboard by my wrists while he thrusted deeply.  We both had earth shattering orgasms and were enjoying the aftershocks when we heard his name being called from across the house…  His mom… I rushed to dress while he called a greeting to her and hurried to close the bedroom door.  We tried to sneak out the front door but I ended up meeting his mom, after not even a week of knowing him, with her sons fresh load leaking from my vagina.  I could feel how red I was from my orgasm and my growing embarrassment.  We rushed off for a canoe, but because I hadn’t planned to go home with him, I didn’t have a bathing suit or change of clothes.  We canoed to a more private part of the lake then I put on his singlet and waded out into the tea tree infused lakes to rinse my body, while he climbed tall trees.  The awkward nervousness reared its ugly head when he talked about his ex contacting him and chastised me for kissing him too much.
We grabbed a bite and went back to his house where I struggled to make a better second impression.
I felt sufficiently awkward and I’d hinted to Jill that I’d meet her at the beach, but he begged me to stay another night, but I was tired and embarrassed and wanted some space so finally he reluctantly drove me back.

Jill and I downed a bottle of wine on the beach then went to the brewery to watch her new Tinder friend perform with his band.  That night is an entire story of its own but I ended up doing M and dancing with a ton of gorgeous men at the after party.  The guy who was hosting the party was this beautiful Israeli with long chestnut curls.  When we hugged goodbye he whispered, “Come back and see me again,” and it sounded like a threat and a promise and it made me tingle all over.  That night I had an epiphany: I had to stay single this summer.
I was resolved to stick to my decision even though I was dreaming of being in his arms as I was coming down.

The next day, while creeping his Facebook I made a startling discovery: He had TWO KIDS and an EX-WIFE that he NEVER MENTIONED!!! I was mortified and hurt and angry, I wanted to confront him, but Kennedy talked me down and made me realize that it was probably a hard thing to discuss and he was probably worried he’d scare me off.
I wanted to ask him to slow things down, but I didn’t want him to think the two things were connected so I resolved to wait for him to tell me in his own time.

The next night at his house, while fussing around cooking spaghetti bolognese for me, I finally admitted that I liked spending time with but things were moving too quickly and I didn’t want a relationship.
“I don’t want a relationship either, especially not with a backpacker,” he promised. “But would you hook up with other guys?”
I assured him I wasn’t looking to, but if something were to happen I wouldn’t beat myself up over it.
“Just use protection I guess… I probably won’t hook up with anyone else, but if you want to…” he sounded hurt.
But after an incredible night together, he was singing a different tune as he drove and we further discussed it.
“I think I may like this sex-friend thing,” he said, smiling.

Despite my cries of protest, I still spent the entire day with him.
We saw a pod of grey whales, walked Otis on the beach and stopped for snacks.  He begged me to stay another night, but I reiterated my need for space.

Determined to act single, I went out with Jill on Friday night.  That is yet another story in its own, but we got wasted, picked up two guys and after getting kicked out of their hostel, sat on the beach smoking a joint.  We snuck back in and began cuddling with our respective men.  We started fooling around by my spins were so bad, I had to keep stopping.  It was almost as if some higher power was trying to stop me.
In the morning, when I was slightly more sober we tried again.  Despite his large dick, I couldn’t get into it and insisted we give up.  I kept thinking about this awesome guy I already had and when I admitted my guilt to Jill she screamed “OH MY GOD YOU LOVE HIM!” as I rode wobbly away on my bike.

I caught a couple hours of sleep and survived work, but was over the moon when my second cleaning job got cancelled.  I was meant to go to the birthday party of his friend’s girlfriend and even though I was terrified of meeting his friends, I was desperate to see him and thankfully, Jill had agree to join me.
We rolled up with his friend and followed by a few others.  The ‘party’ consisted of a handful of his friends, the girlfriend’s entire extended family (I’m talking little kids and old people who seemed perplexed by our presence.)  It was an intimate, uncomfortable environment and I couldn’t be happier to have outspoken, friendly Jill there, even if she was swearing loudly at kids.
He wandered off and I got stuck talking to some musos.  One of his friend’s girlfriends cornered me to gush about how much they liked me over his ex already and how glad they were to have me in their crew.  I couldn’t help but feel flattered.  The party died down and the old people dissipated and those remaining began getting wild.  We smoked cone after cone and I got on really well with all his friends.  Even though he was loser pissed and useless, forcing me to take charge and set up our tent, I was ecstatic when I finally got to wrap my arms around him in [semi] privacy.
I looked into his eyes and realized my feelings for him were stronger than I cared to admit.
I’ll sensor myself a little here, but we got wild.  This 30 year old, former Christian who had only been with three other women, was turning into a freak before my very eyes and I loved it.
Every position he wanted to try, every thing I suggested, he was in to.  We were so free and open about our desires and past experiences, it was exhilarating.  When I said this to him, he looked at me solemnly and said, “I just want all of you, in every way.”

The next morning, we banged again and joined the others to eat egg and bacon sandwiches and swam in the frigid pool.  We returned to his house and Sunday Fundayed it.  Soon it was only the two of us and he whisked me off to the bedroom to fuck before cooking me butter chicken and then fucking me again.
In the morning, I bemoaned going into work and wished I could spend the whole day naked with him.


Now, I’m here.  So lost, but totally unconcerned with it.  I haven’t brought up the kids and don’t plan to, because honestly, I’m not really ready to have that conversation.  Right now it’s fun and breezy and although we talk like lifelong friends, avoiding such topics makes me feel like they don’t exist or will simply go away.
I fucking like this guy a lot, but there’s no future for us.  I can’t stay and he likely can’t leave.  Besides, he’ll probably end up taking his ex back and leaving me high and dry.  But are those potential issues problems enough to deny myself happiness now?  Is the smart thing to end it now before we both get hurt?  Cause I can’t get sucked into a relationship and I’m just beginning to think I’m too flighty to ever remain tied down, but maybe… just maybe… he’s the exception to the rule.  I don’t know what will happen, I suppose only time will tell, but right now…

He’s the only man who has treated me like gold simply because he thinks I deserve it; or asks me questions about my family; or doesn’t care about my wild past and uncertain future.  He’s the greatest guy I’ve ever dated and I’m not about to throw that away for fear.

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Reading the Signs

Life is a test. A challenge. A race.
I have attempted to ignore what the Universe is trying to tell me, but it refuses to stand down.
Sometimes I convince myself that I’m satisfied with my current situation.
I try to tell myself that if I stay perfectly still where I am – curled up in a corner, eyes shut tightly – things around me will changed on their own.
Life is full of ups and downs and happiness ebbs and flows like waves breaking on a shore.  Yet sometimes so many roadblocks appear on one journey, you can’t help but wonder: Is the Universe trying to tell me something and steer me away from the path I’m on? Or is it all the more reason to fight harder, be stronger and carry on?
I guess the answer lies within, in the form of yet another question:
How badly do you want it?

Often the challenges I face are moral in nature, they say:
This is what you claim to stand for, now is your chance to prove it. Will you step onto your soapbox, stand up for what you believe in and defend those without a voice? Or will you slink away, because it’s easier and more convenient?
It’s easy to feel helpless.
Recently I found myself in a shitty situation where I was witness to some unsavoury behaviour from our landlord. He acted in an inappropriate way towards one of my flatmates and I fell into the uncomfortable position of having to relay the information to my unknowing friend. He was surprised, hurt, shocked. A day later he had sat on the information and his anger had only grown. He was upset and wanted to speak up and out, but didn’t know what to say and I mirrored his frustrations.
If we confronted our landlord, would he kick us out, or begin treating us with hostility?
When you live in a tourist town where everyone is struggling to find work or accommodation, you consider yourself one of the lucky ones when those things materialize for you. In fact, you feel so grateful, that you’re afraid to rock the boat for fear of losing everything.

An asshole boss at a job you desperately need.
An inappropriate landlord in a house you were barely able to find.
These people are in a place of power above you.
There are even more above them and a select few that reign over our whole society.
The thought of fighting to the top is exhausting, especially when it’s obviously easier to walk away.
People can be cruel and there are a lot of the people I’ve met here that I would rather forget. The locals are unfriendly and proud, the natives are aggressive and intense, the tourists are just looking to party.

It seems as if every day I find myself in another shitty situation that tempts me to run away with my tail between my legs, but the competitive side of me refuses to stand down: at least not until I’ve made a complete life for myself here.  Once I’m nice and comfortable, that’s the perfect time to move on and start again.
Maybe the reason I am picking up on these perceived signs is because of the doubts within myself. I’m not totally psyched on my life right now, so I look for signs in my environment that might tell me if I am making the wrong decision.
I’ve reached out for spiritual guidance, as I always do in times of uncertainty.
The last few times I’ve read my tarot cards or my horoscope, the same themes continue to appear: Strength, travel, personal growth, but above all: Career.
Everywhere I go, everything I see screams: WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH YOUR LIFE?!
I like having a life void of responsibility and full of fun, but I feel unsatisfied. I want to feel that I am doing something meaningful with my life, but I’m scared to take that next step and become a “responsible adult.” At the beginning of the year, I set a goal for myself: Teach in another country. I’ve taken strides towards that goal, but now that I’m close I’ve begun cowering away.
A life with a purpose, with a schedule.
Being responsible for a person’s education.
Standing in front of a classroom.
Terrifying.
Yet, maybe exactly what I need. I can’t run forever, I can’t ignore the signs from within.

1

Strange Dreams

I’ve been having strange dreams lately…

The other day I awoke to sunlight streaming through my window.  I sat up slowly and stretched out, thinking to myself I think I just had an intense dream, but I can’t remember what it was about.  I struggled to remember for a few minutes and then suddenly it all came flooding into my mind at once, overwhelming all my senses and causing me to yell out, “OH MY GOD!”
This is what I remembered:

I was at my house with my roommate Shannon and a bunch of her girlfriends, hanging out and having some drinks.  I was sitting outside having a smoke when this guy climbed up onto my back deck and emerged from the thick shrubbery.  He introduced himself casually and said he lived in the neighbourhood and could hear us partying so he thought he would come by and check it out.  At the time it didn’t occur to me to think it odd that he just climbed onto our deck as I live in a friendly neighbourhood where everyone knows everyone, no one locks their doors and people just enter each others homes uninvited and without knocking.  This mysterious man had no distinguishable features, no name, he was a faceless figure, and was more so a presence than a person.  As I began talking to him, I realized that he was a person of interest in the disappearance of an Aboriginal woman in the community as he was seen with her before she went missing.  Although there was no evidence to tie him to any crime, many people in town believed that he had murdered her.  I felt very uneasy around him as he continued to say some very strange and disturbing things to me (the whole interaction was very reminiscent of the time I met “Alex” in my post Negative Nancy.)  My roommate stuck her head out the deck door to tell me that she and her friends were headed out and they would see me later, completely unaware of the fact that my companion was a possible murder suspect.  Horrified at the idea of this man knowing that I was going to be home alone, I told him: “I think I’m going to go join the girls.  Have a good night.”  He remained seated and made no effort to leave so I closed and locked every single sliding glass door and drew all the curtains tightly shut.  I turned off every light in the house to create the appearance that I had left and then locked myself in my bedroom, too scared to actually leave the now empty house in fear that he might attack me.  The remainder of my dream is kind of a blur, but basically it was a bunch of scenarios in which I would go back in forth between believing he was guilty of heinous crimes and believing he was an innocent (albeit really strange and socially awkward) dude. At one point in my dream I was with both of my managers and begging them to let me stay over at their house (they’re roommates in real life) so that I could avoid this person who seemed to be following me everywhere I went.  I was actually dating my one manager and I can distinctly remember this overwhelming feeling of vulnerability that lessened slightly when I was in his arms.  The dream ended with me walking past a hotel and looking up to one of the very top floors and there was this man just staring down at me, completely unmoving and I screamed at the top of my lungs and woke up.

When the dream came back to me, I sat in bed recalling all the details in absolute horror.  Why did I dream about being stalked by a scary guy?  What could it mean?  Was it some sort of warning?  I thought about the night with “Alex” and shuddered.  The whole dating my boss thing, what did that mean?  Was I secretly in love with him or something?  I’ve always felt he harboured a little crush on me, was my subconscious telling me to try viewing him in another light?  I felt overwhelmed and sauntered upstairs in the hopes that someone else was home that I might confide in.  I made coffee in an effort to calm my nerves and sat sipping it while still reflecting on my nightmare.  Shannon came upstairs at one point and I began to relay my dream to her, still at an utter loss on what it might mean.

I continued to think about it all day and all night.  When I got home from work, I smoked a bowl and contemplated it some more.  I thought about what Martha Beck says about dreams in her book Steering by Starlight (I’m not exaggerating when I say that this book changed my life so I refer back to her advice on a daily basis.)  Beck says that in order to understand your dreams you must see the dream through the viewpoint of the symbols.  It seems silly, but it actually involves narrating the dream as the symbol.  So in my case I said: “I’m scary and ominous, I look over your every move and cause you anxiety and fear to the point of paralysis.”  But as I continued this exercise I was still at a loss on what this man represented.  I climbed into bed and began to forget about it as I started to drift off.  As I was on the verge of sleep, the answer came into my head.  It was so loud and clear it was like an explosion and it was one word: Doubt.

Doubt.  It seemed so obvious and fitting.  Doubt is always in the back of my mind; doubt is what keeps me from making a decision; doubt is what makes me fearful; and doubt is what pushes me into relationships I don’t really want just so I can grasp onto some sort of buoy in the rough seas of life.  The fact that both my managers were in my dream says a lot as I feel doubtful in my current positions and doubtful of both of them as leaders.  I doubted I could ever muster up the courage and strength to travel and follow my dreams and I doubted I would ever make it overseas to teach English.  In fact, as I write this, it still seems doubtful that I’ll ever do any of the things I’ve set out to do.  It’s that doubt that stalks me and makes me paralyzed in fear.  And the whole overarching theme of: Is this man guilty or is he innocent?  It relates back to: Can I do it or will I fail?

Such a profound and life changing moment in my life.  What started off as a frightening dream has become fodder for some serious self-reflection.  I guess I really need to work on having more confidence…

0

Keeping Promises to Myself

I think the Universe really wants me to keep this whole, “No Guys for a Year, or At Least for the Summer” vow…

The other weekend there was a local music festival going on.  I, of course, was stuck working doubles the entire time and didn’t make it to any of the shows.
On the Saturday night my manager, who was hosting one of the bands from Minnesota, invited me to the bonfire on the beach.  At this point it was midnight and I had to be up again at 5:30 am to work my morning job so I did the very “responsible” thing and opted to go to bed instead.  A very intoxicated Kennedy attended and phoned me the next day to tell me how fun the show had been and how she’d spent the night sucking face with the captivating lead singer.  I couldn’t help but feel the pangs of jealousy as I’ve been itching for a good make out session for weeks now.

The band ended up coming into my restaurant for dinner and I excitedly asked my manager who the lead singer was.
“Is it that blonde guy?” I questioned eyeing up an absolute babe at their table.
“No,” he responded, “he’s not with them right now.  That guy’s not even in the band he’s a photographer and friend tagging along on the tour.”
I finished work pretty late again, but by some divine miracle I didn’t have to be up for work the next morning, so when my manager suggested I come over and have a beer with the band I gladly obliged.  Besides, I was curious to see the guy that had my bestie so stoked.

When I arrived I was informed that Kennedy and this dude had disappeared together.  So I drank espresso stout and partook in flirty banter with the cute blonde hipster.  We laughed and chatted until, suddenly, it was 3 am.  The boys were headed out on their tour in a few short hours.  Everyone insisted I stay overnight and I seriously considered it, but with 8 guys and 1 girl sharing a 2 bedroom basement suite I decided instead to make the sketchy bike ride home.  I said my goodbyes and headed out, but every time I thought of the blonde haired hotty I felt jolts of excitement.  That’s when I began to reflect…
If I hadn’t been so busy working doubles (and if I hadn’t had this second job fall into my lap for that matter) I’d be at that beach fire, I’d be drunk, and I undoubtedly would have made out with this guy.  If I hadn’t met this dude a mere few hours before he was leaving town forever and if he hadn’t been sleeping in such close proximity to the band members with virtually no privacy, something would likely have happened.  My circumstances made it impossible for me to hookup with the first interesting guy I’ve met in months.  Things really happen for a reason.  But that’s not all.

My hectic work schedule has destroyed my social life and has practically forced me to save a huge sum of money.  This in turn, has lead me to a life changing decision:
Come November the beautiful Kennedy and myself will be leaving this crazy town and headed for NEW ZEALAND!  There is a divine path I am meant to follow.  It’s time to move on and New Zealand is beckoning.

Well played Universe, well played.

1

Negative Nancy

Shortly after I decided to swear off men, the energy surrounding this beautiful place shifted. I can pinpoint the exact moment I felt it.

The night of Violet’s birthday my roommate Kathy had joined me and actively voiced her desire to do mushrooms, she even had a gram all ready to go. I assured her that Violet would bring plenty of mush and we’d all partake with her.  A few of us arrived down at the beach and began making a fire.  Kathy began growing concerned that it was getting late and that she wouldn’t have enough time to come down before she had to go to work, so she decided to eat hers.  I accompanied Violet back to staff housing and made my enquiry.
“Dude! I just sold the last of it! I have one left though, you can have it.”
Not wanting to leave Kathy tripping alone at a party full of people she didn’t know, I did what any good friend would do: I ate that mushroom capsule.
The crowd around the fire was growing and I could feel myself getting higher.  People’s faced became covered with geometric patterns, but yet I was still engaging in full and sensical conversations.  Kathy and I went on a pee mission and when we entered the bushes we both gasped.  All the leaves were glowing neon green and appeared as thousands of hands reaching up, beckoning me to lie on them.  I collapsed backwards onto the awaiting hands.
“Wow,” Kathy remarked, “Your hair looks like it’s alive, growing into the bushes. You’re like… their queen.”
That was my last happy memory of the night.

Back at the fire, I was continuing to have in-depth conversations whilst staring off into space when a couple guys started talking to us, one was named “Alex.”
“Do you wanna go splash in the water?” He asked me.
“Of course!” I exclaimed and the two of us began skipping out to the ridiculously low tide.
“How do you know Violet?” I asked.
“I don’t,” he said, “I just moved here after being discharged from the military… Should I marry her?” On the way back to the fire he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder and began running with me.
“Stop!” I screamed, “Put me down!”
“Ask me anything!” He commanded as he released me. “Ask me how many men I’ve killed, go ahead, ask me!”
“No,” I stated, “Are you just fucking with me because I’m high?”
“What? No, why would I do that?”

Back at the fire I tried to stay away from him. Kathy and I sat off to the side of the now 50+ person bonfire and listened to my friend play guitar.  Suddenly “Alex” returned and started screaming at my friend to play Bob Dylan.  When my friend ignored him he screamed, “You people are all fucking retarded!” and stormed off.
“Oh my God, I’m so scared of that guy!” I cried, “He’s going to kill me!”
“It’s okay,” Kathy insisted, “We’ll be fine, you’re just high.”
We made our way through the crowd and found our beautiful Kennedy, all swollen and chipmunked after having her wisdom teeth removed, chewing away on weed fudge.  The 3 of us ran out onto the wet sand and towards the surf and admired the glowing phosphoresces that appeared under every step we took.  We stared back towards the lodge, the sky was overcast, but the stars were still shining through in an eery, sinister way.  In the distance, the various lighthouses cast ominous lights. Something felt different, not right.
Back at the fire Kathy became fearful of “Alex” and insisted she and I go back with the now departing Kennedy.  I was in the midst of smoking a joint in the hopes of calming my nerves and promised I would return shortly in the company of my friend Jack.  I assured her that he was completely sober and would keep me safe.  The two of us began our trek back and sure enough “Alex” appeared and began to say some hostile things to Jack.  We both walked away, “Man that guy’s weird,” Jack commented.
“He’s the one that’s going to skin me!”

On the way back and as I came down, Jack began to retail me with ghost stories from the very bay we’d just been partying in.  Apparently, a tourist shot himself in the head there and on occasions a spooky presence had manifested in that spot.  Suddenly he stopped. “Do you hear that?”
“What?” We listened carefully and in the distance we could hear a grinding metal sound.
“A bike?” I suggested.
“Maybe, but whoa, what’s that?” He pointed up beyond the tree-line where two bright lights were circulating towards the sky in perfect unison.
“What the hell is that?” I asked.
“Headlights,” he declared.
“But why are they moving in a circular motion like that?”
“They’re headlights, let’s go!”

Back at the lodge, Jack went up to get a drink of water from the hose while I sat on a beach chair waiting for him.  A little ways down the beach I could see a bright blue light.  Although I was coming down, I was still having weird visuals and I couldn’t tell if the light was coming towards me or was on a stationary post.  It seemed to be moving, but only up and down and if it belonged to a person, shouldn’t they be close enough that I could see them?
“Hey Jack,” I called as he came down the stairs, “Is that light on a post or a person?”
“I don’t know, but it’s coming closer!” The two of us ran up the path with Jack’s blanket wrapped around us for protection.

Back at staff housing we were all reunited and safe, but I still felt uneasy. As I tried to sleep I felt fearful that “Alex” would find me. I wracked my brain for any information I may have given him: that I was staying at staff accom, that I worked at the lodge, the neighbourhood I lived in, but I came up with nothing. I assured myself that I was safe and that tomorrow would be a better day, but the negativity began to grow and fester.

To be continued…