Real Life

I woke up the next morning feeling surprisingly at ease seeing as I was in a house full of strangers and was invited to have some breakfast and coffee on the balcony.

Later on that day we went to the river to have some beers, swim and chat. Alma river in the centre/north of the island, we just pitched up and plonked ourselves in the water. The rivers you have to walk to are better because the sense of being in nature is that much more powerful. Once back at the house I settled into a sofa, tv and Internet session. I was asking myself if I was going to see him that day and what on earth he might be doing, I thought it somewhat an obligation that if a girl comes to visit you after five years of absence, you kind of have to hang out with her. If nothing other than sheer curiosity for motivation to come no matter how he felt. He would come. And it would have to be at some point tonight, right? He appeared at the door and rounded the room to sit down next to me, he fed me some crepe and asked me about my day. He seemed (jokingly) annoyed when the other boys recounted the day we had passed, that they had taken me to the river. 'Without my permission?' Was his response, with serious undertones. But she is mine. I know this is something that I need to get over but I LOVE how possessive and controlling the men here are. I don't know what's in my personality, being someone who is relatively independent, travel solo, live in London and fend for myself. I don't know why I am so attracted to men that have tendencies to want to dominate. I think I'm looking for signs of strength and I see it as a manifestation of strength. But it comes out more like - 'Objectify me, please! I want to belong to you.' I like to know where I stand and with a guy like that I guess you do, but just because it's simple in that sense doesn't mean that you stand in any better position than in any other relationship. Especially not in a place like the Caribbean where the vast majority of males are cheating scumbags.

He made some polite conversation with the others but soon suggested that we leave to go to his. Whispering into my ear that he was happy to see me again and then laying his head down in my lap. On journey back along the twisted roads under the stars, I was instructed to listen carefully to a song, perhaps two. The lyrics seemed to echo our story, I didn't know how to process it because if the song was as deep as I thought and he really did feel like that then he had suffered when I left last time I was too stoned and overwhelmed. He was left not dumped, I just disappeared. It's weird because I felt like those feelings existed only for me. I wondered at the time how he failed to feel the intensity of what I felt when we spent nights together. It was too real, even though I was on such a love adrenaline rush that those memories are so difficult to grasp, I was so in the moment that I wasn't thinking, nothing was registering, I had totally abandoned myself. In any case he made little effort outside his bed to try and keep me. Or that he just didn't think about these things at all.

We got through the doorway in the dark and he swept me up and we dissolved into a long hug, he said wanted to hold me, to look at me. Something Inside me wouldn't let go like before. Older? Wiser? Jaded? Dead Inside? It was unnerving to not feel totally overpowered by that moment because I had wished and waited for it for so long. Maybe I'd remember him if we had sex again. Our bodies had been so in tune it would be like a reconnection, I was just using my head too much at the moment. Suddenly we were naked, but I was so aware  of myself, we were struggling, jolting, it was mechanical. It was different from before. And then he was sick.

I have to ask myself if my memories have betrayed me, was I simply absent before because of the weed. It's possible.

I wanted so badly to re access those feelings of ecstasy, pure delight. I felt betrayed. Myself for not being able to love like that anymore. By life in between being so hard. By him for changing. Was it all just in my head before? When are things not down to inturpretation though, so why is it no longer the same?Meaningless, what had meant so much for so long. Time eventually changes everything you have. Memories are all that is left but they too change with time, memory is just a warped illusion of reality, an interpretation of what happened. The present is all but an interpretation os what is happening. All I seem to be left with now is a false truth, total confusion. The way I felt about him bordered on religious in the sense that I had total faith the fact that we were ment to be together. This night somehow simultaneously freed me and shattered all my illusions. I had mythologised him over the years. He was perfect in my mind. No one is perfect. He is mortal just like me, I have changed, he has too. In life, things can change so radically it's hard to believe in anything, what you believe to be rock-like can be eroded away.

Puzzled about how I felt at the end of that night and then a further three days together. I told myself only time would tell this time round. Be mature this time and get to know him, maybe those gut instincts weren't wrong...