0

Round the world adventures – Part 1 The landing

I’ve been missing a while…

It’s because I went on a round the world adventure.

Hopped on a plane from Sydney to Zürich, to Istanbul to Antalya in Turkey.

Mum was waiting for me after a 32 hour flight and 4 planes later. Why does no one ever mention that buying a round the world trip means that instead of having the most direct flight, you kind of travel backwards and forwards until you get to your destination? Instead of a direct flight from Singapore to Istanbul, I got to see Switzerland! Maybe that’s why I was paying extra? At the end of the day though, I really did enjoy the scenic route. I’ll never buy another RTW ticket in my life ever again. Unless I’m doing shorter distances and more time in between plane rides.

Turkey was a lot different from what I remembered from my teens.

For one, there was a Starbucks at the airport so I got my coffee hit, albeit bad coffee hit and over priced for what it was…Maybe that made me more amenable? Who knows. Or possibly that I had flown for so long that I wasn’t taking any shit from anyone also helped. I also wanted a shower. Desperately.

Except when it came to customs. They made me pay 50 euro for a visa when I am a Turkish Citizen because I didn’t have my citizenship card on me. The other customs guy that I talked to after forking out a bucket-load of money was that the dude that gave me the bum steer could have looked me up on the computer. What an arsehole. At least I swore about him until I saw the Starbucks. Then I forgot about it all as I rushed to get caffeine into my system. Little did I know that it would taste like I was licking bathroom walls. Not that I know what bathroom walls taste like, but it’s what I imagine they taste like.

It’s a surreal feeling having flown half way around the world and landing in a land where many see your Australian passport and try to talk to you in broken English and then look rather shocked when you start talking back to them in fluent Turkish. However the more I travel the more I find that no matter where you go in the world, airports are all the same. They could be speaking Dutch, English, Korean, American or Turkish. People everywhere, check in check out & even customs. The carpets even match in a weird way. People pushing, shoving, connecting & avoiding your eyes. I’m a people watcher – especially when my 3DS has run out of battery and I need a break from reading my book. Istanbul’s airport felt like it was a total mishmash. Chaotic even. You fly through customs, then take a huge long walk from International terminal to domestic. At least it’s not like Heathrow where you have to take a bus to the other terminal. Or LAX. I guess I should count my blessings. It was a pleasant walk and one where I got to buy a SIM for my phone so that I could call my mama and check in to say I’m on time and on schedule.

But before I could figure out how to make the phone go, I was boarding my plane to Antalya. The land of endless Mediterranean beaches and warm weather. Considering I was missing winter for this, I prayed that it put on a good show because I bloody hate summer at the best of times. The oppressive heat and humidity are disgusting. And I can’t cuddle up to people in bed during summer. I’m a cuddler. I like koala’ing around someone to sleep. Summer negates this. And you sweat. Like actual sweat & stick together. I hate sweat. UGH.

By the time I landed in Antalya and got out of the airport and found my mama! YAY! My mama… who I’m really missing at the moment, believe it or not. I want to murder her when she’s here and miss her like crazy when she’s not. Figures.

For the first few days the weather was a balmy 30 degrees Celsius and I could go at will to the beach down the road and flob about. This pleased me greatly. I kinda like summer at 30 degrees. Then on day 3 the weather decided hell was winning and it needed to be hotter than hell itself. The temp soared between 45 degrees and 50 for the rest of the time I was in town. Fuck you summer. Just fuck you with a big rusty fork.

Note: It was hot. Very bloody hot. Super hot. To the point that leaving the house was just not done until well after 3 pm when the temp got to a point that you could leave the house without dying from heat stroke or blisters on your feet from heat coming off the ground and through ones shoes. Which meant that if I wanted to go to the beach, I had to be there really early in the morning, or quite late in the afternoon to be able to walk to the water without a hospital trip thanks to the pebble beaches along the Mediterranean coast. Or shop. Shopping was fabulous. Such cheap, many buy! But that’s another post altogether…

 

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Me lazing under a beach umbrella enjoying my view…

 

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The view into the mountains from the wrap around balcony at mum’s place. I tried to zoom. I may have failed. That little speck you see at the top is a Turkish flag. It made me think of how lonely the moon flag would also be… 

4

Pride Festival – Istanbul 2016

You know, I was walking around Istanbul on Sunday – Taksim to be precise – when my friend and I noticed something a bit different. There were riot police everywhere. In groups of 5 – 10, 20-50, with gas masks on top of their heads, their machine guns in their arms and a searching expression on their faces as they sized you up as you walked past.

As we walked some more towards the main drag of Taksim, we noticed that there weren’t just riot police, but regular police, water tanks, riot vans, something looking like a tank and a whole bunch of vehicles and men in uniform everywhere. Being that this is Turkey in 2016, we got a bit worried about what might be about to go down. Was there a bomb threat? Should we be clearing out? But it didn’t look like anyone else was moving out of the way, so we trundled along and tried to take “sneaky” picture of the police without them realising as they had filled every side street along the main drag with police vehicles and actual officers.

We walked some more and got a bit more worried as we were pretty sure that the entire Istanbul police force were here. In full regalia. We thought the worst. Instead my friend decided to call her cousin who, bless her, was like the gossip spring of Istanbul. We asked what was going down, do we need to clear out ASAP? Are we in danger?

Her reply was rather a shock to me…

Oh no. Today is meant to be the Pride march and they are all there because the government has told the queers they aren’t allowed to march. I stood still for a minute and did a 360 degree turn. Just to take in the amount of police presence to stop a pride march.

I took a deep breath. And I let it out again.

Mardi Gras at home is so liberating. It’s so full of love, light and laughter. I never in my wildest dreams thought I would be in the middle of a march for my fellow queer people and have to go up against so many police officers who were given the right to use gas, water and anything else they could get their hands on to stop you from marching.

This is the police presence in Sydney during Mardi Gras, they actually march in the parade to show solidarity, queer or not –

Police Mardi Gras

2016 – Sydney Police Force marching in GLBTIQ Mardi Gras

And yet, in Taksim, this is the reality of the police presence

#Pride2016 Yasak Ne Ayol! LGBTİ Onur Yürüyüşü#Taksim#Polissaldırı

A photo posted by EYLEM NAZLIER (@eylem.nzlr) on

I tried to comprehend why, why a bunch of queers warranted such a heavy presence. Were these people harming others? Were they stealing? Were they tearing the fabric of reality apart? What could they have possibly done, apart from be who they are, that could garner such a harsh reaction from the people that are meant to be protecting the citizens – not terrorising them?

It brought tears to my eyes to look up and see people stealthily hanging pride flags from their windows. There were rainbows slowly popping up everywhere and still the crowd didn’t really hold many queers.

To our surprise out of nowhere a bunch of people started to walk with rainbow flags, standing tall, standing strong – and I thought. Fuck. The whole police force of Istanbul against 20 young gay youths.

I’m not sure if there were more people that marched in different groups all along the Taksim main thoroughfare, but we only saw these guys before we decided to keep walking.

It breaks my heart that LGBTIQ pride marches around the world are still subject to this form of harassment and intimidation. That gay kids around the world would still rather commit suicide than come out to their religious leaning parents. That anyone would or could harm someone else because of who they fall in love with.

This was not the Istanbul that I was expecting to confront of this day. It wasn’t the Istanbul that I wanted to see. What I wanted to see was an Istanbul that was all inclusive. That didn’t march to the beat of Erdogan’s drum. That let pride marches go freely without gassing, water cannoning or beating my fellow queers up with batons.

Instead what I found myself in was a huge pile of doo-doo that pulled my heart strings, that made me realise how lucky I am as an Australian Turk that I can march without fear of getting a baton to the face for just being in the street during a pride march – let alone because I’m queer.

What I am going to focus on is that the new batch of children that are growing up will eventually replace these dinosaurs that are in power. They will start to run our governments and make laws that are progressive instead of divisive & hate fuelled.

And until that day I’m going to try not to weep for my fellow queers, that despite the resistance and unlawfulness of being who they are, that they keep on marching.

Chin up. Tits out.

March my loves, march.

<3

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4

Dreams, reality or somewhere in betwixt…

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I still haven’t resolved my feelings about letting my partner impregnate his friend – I think. Some days my answer is yes. Some days it is still no. We are waiting to find a relationship counsellor that suits us both as yet. I’ve left it to him to pursue and get back to me as the counsellor that I put forward can’t see us.

In amongst this time I decided I wanted to change forms of contraception because the pill, after taking it for 20 odd years, was getting tiresome and the effects it had on my body were getting even worse. Yes it might ease my pain during periods but at the same time it took away my sexual urges, it increased my weight and trying to remember to take something every day was getting irksome. So I stopped and talked to my GP about other methods that were available to us as obviously Cern and I are totally not at a point in our relationship where we want more little Cern’s running around. The GP pushed for implanon, I advised that I wanted to go the route of less hormones – she advised that with PCOS that wasn’t such a great idea. I told her that I don’t care, I’m tired of fake hormones fucking with my body. I need to deal with my pain and find other ways around it. I need her to find me a way that I wouldn’t get pregnant. I walked out the Drs surgery with a prescription for implanon and not much else. I wanted an IUD as it was probably the easiest option in regards to insertion and then forgetting about it but she kept saying that it wasn’t the best option for me. I figured I would try to get a referral to a Gyno from another Dr and deal with an IUD at that point.

In amongst all this, I started to get really sore breasts. Not like when I was pregnant in my 20’s. This was a different kind of pain, it started from just on the outside and worked its way into the nipple. It felt like someone was scratching the skin beneath it in a way, yet at the same time a squeezing sort of agony. I put it down to my getting off the pill and my body telling me that I was going to bleed. For the second time within a month. Welcome to the lovely land of PCOS. And I did finally bleed. Right after we got back from our road trip to Victoria. My dreams of babies grew and my boobs still ached. I cried at cats on YouTube and to be honest, I cried at people laughing, talking, being sweet to each other and children dancing. Let’s just say I cried at everything. Which, as per my not being on the pill, is totally normal way of being when I’m about to bleed. Except the 4th day of my period I was doubled over in excruciating pain at work and wondered if the pain was really this bad all the time or if this was some “bitch, you took the hormones away and you’ll pay” kinda deal with my ovaries. I stayed at work. I did message Cern at some point and say that my uterus was trying to expel itself from my body because that’s how painful it was. People at work started to say I looked pale and noticed me hunched over my desk of breathing deeply through certain points. I got through the day and got a UberX home because I couldn’t really walk very far and the thought of catching a bus and a train and then walking home was beyond me.

The next day I didn’t go to work. I stayed in bed and felt sorry for myself because of the agonies I was in and the amount of blood-letting happening. I did go to the Dr to get a certificate for work and he made me have a blood test after I told him that this was my 2nd period in a month – the first being the one I had when I came off the pill. He gave me a certificate for work and told me he’d call me if he needed me to come back once my results were in. He called me 2 days later and asked me to come back to see him. Cern came with me while I went in to see said Dr. He told me my blood tests were rather confusing as my hCG levels were sitting at 15 which means that usually pregnant, but my bleeding means that I’m probably not so he said I was possibly half pregnant. I may have looked rather blankly at him. Ummm what?

He took out a piece of paper that explained exactly what that meant….

hCG levels and I was the 2nd one.

  • non-pregnant women – less than 5 milli-international units per millilitre (mIU/ml)
  • pregnant women, about 3 weeks after the last menstrual period (LMP) – 5–50 mIU/ml
  • pregnant women, about 4 weeks after the LMP – 50–500 mIU/ml

I was like, ummm wait. What? Back up a bit. What do you mean I’m half pregnant? How can I be half pregnant! I only just came off the pill! I was starting to believe Cerns infinite talk of his super sperm when it came to impregnating women. This isn’t meant to happen. I haven’t even had a month off the pill! I couldn’t be pregnant. Or remotely with parasite! I have PCOS. I said that to him, to the Dr. I have PCOS. Dr advised me that just because I have something and the general medical knowledge of how a body behaves with said abnormalities doesn’t negate the fact that you can still fall pregnant at the drop of a hat even though I’ve been told that I can’t fall pregnant after aborting my first all those many moons ago.

So somewhere along the line I had a 2nd and I didn’t even know about it that I’d lost???

Yes, he said.

<insert pregnant pause> <yes, I realise the double entendre>

So. Um. I say, what does that actually mean for me now?

He said I needed to come back in a week to have another blood test and booked me to have an ultrasound.

Oooooooooooooooooooook theeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeen.

I may have walked out looking dazed and confused and possibly laughing. So somewhere along the way he gave me my very of parasite and somehow I had no idea and now it was gone because I’ve been bleeding so heavily all week but my hormones are still showing that I’m definitely pregnant. But I’m also not pregnant. I could feel it in my bones and my body. I felt lighter, different. Cern smirked as soon as we walked out of the Drs surgery and said I told you I had super sperm. I wanted to slap his smile away but I ended up laughing. In some ways I guess it was a rejoice that, yet again, the Drs were proved wrong that I couldn’t conceive successfully without IVF.

The follow-up showed that everything was well and as good as can be minus a parasite. My hormones had returned to normal levels and the Dr advised that if I wanted to have a baby then my hormones were perfect to conceive. I said, no, no thank you, we’re good for now and walked out with a referral to a gynaecologist for an IUD.

I’ve been asked if I’m OK.

And you know, for having been pregnant, not known about said pregnancy and losing said pregnancy – I think I’m doing good.

What I learned from this experience? It’s hard to mourn something you never knew you had in the first place. It’s a welcome reminder that if I do want children, I don’t have to resort to IVF after all. I learnt that I love having Cerns fingers splayed against my lower abdomen while he whispers baby mumma in my ear. As disturbing as this is to my logical self, my illogical/emotional self warms at his touch. His possession. His fingers and hand burns its heat all the way through to my uterus and it contracts all on its own.

I knew I had a fetish when it came to watching men orgasm and feeling them inside me while watching their face would bring me to the brink of coming myself. There’s something to be said about feeling a man come deep inside you, beating at your cervix, filling it as they come. It makes me a wee bit weak at the knees. The pain and pleasure it usually brings is pretty spectacular. So maybe my orgasm fetish may have evolved.

However, last week I got my IUD. No more oppsy’s for us.

4

Turkey basting sperm, surrogacy & pregnancy.

This is a bit more of a serious post.

Not sure I’ve made one of those in a while. But there you go.

The stage: a question, delicately posed, yet still creating a drop in my stomach and the urge to throw up. Isn’t it funny that whenever Cern says “I have something to talk to you about” that’s my reaction? Anyway.

He mentions that a while ago, long before he met me, he offered his sperm to a lesbian friend of his if she ever had need of it and wanted to conceive with her partner. What a lovely idea right? Right.

So, he said that she’d gotten in contact and wanted to claim his swimmers.

Well ok. He didn’t say it in those terms precisely. However that’s how it has stuck in my head.

And he asked me if I would be ok with it?

Uhmm. Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah. Nooooooooooooooooo. I asked him to give me some breathing space as I needed to sort through my reactions. They were extreme, well, extreme for me.

I didn’t want to be the bitch that denied his friend a baby so I wanted to say yes. Yet at the same time I didn’t want to see his face in her child’s everytime we saw them since they are friends and I assume there would be cross over somewhere along the way so I also wanted to say no.

How doth one throw caution to the wind and say to one’s lover, sure honey – go knock up your friend, I’m totally cool with it!

And in a way, I felt that I was being bypassed, yet again, for a partner to have a baby with someone else instead of me.

That last line is all baggage. From my ex, the baby daddy, the one who procreated with someone else while with me…

Logically, I know that it’s not true. Emotionally though, it’s really hard to deal with the fact that I just don’t feel that I can do it. I want to be at a place where this kind of thing doesn’t phase me and I can totally get behind his urge to spread his sperm to anyone that wants to have a child. I really really do. Yet at the same time it eats at me.  Why do I seem to find men that want to have babies with everyone else? Do I give off some kind of signal that makes men believe that of me?

Again, don’t answer that question. I know it totally doesn’t apply to this situation, but who ever said emotions were logical?

I guess what this whole thing brought up for me was a Pandora’s box of things I thought I had dealt with. Surprise, obviously I didn’t deal with them that well…

I still wish I could give him what he wants, but I did say that I think we should both see a relationship counsellor, because this whole thing is making me feel things that I didn’t think would ever be an issue and if anything, we might get some good communication skills out of it. He agreed and said that it was part of the process that we see a counsellor anyway. So I left him to organise a date and gave him a referral of a councillor that a friend recommended for couples counselling of relationships that weren’t “vanilla”.

In the meantime I’ve tried to sort through my knee jerk emotions and have ended up with a big ball of “I don’t know what the fuck I want” and don’t really have a way of unravelling it.

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So I’m going to outline the various emotions in bullet point in the hopes that I can see some kind of pattern and pinpoint where my emotional instability is coming from:

  • Scared – scared that I’m never going to be enough for anyone and that I just don’t offer anyone anything to stay around – hello daddy baggage!
  • Unwanted – I know logically that this is a silly emotion, but it’s not one that I can dislodge. I feel like I am missing something because everyone else wants babies with everyone else and I’m like the invisible woman in the middle of the equation
  • Confused – I don’t know if I said yes what would this involve. Do we visit it every other month? Do it be a part of our lives? Or is it something that’s separate and something that he and I don’t get involved in? Do we never see it? Do we see it every Xmas? (I want to reiterate here that he said that there was a strict guideline that they’d drawn out and all he would ever be is the sperm donor – no contact, not listed as parent, not a next of kin, etc) But then it makes me feel sick to think that I’ll be saying hello to his child with someone else every time we see his friends, if we see his friends. Does that even make sense considering we have his 2 little ones every other weekend anyway yet I don’t feel like that with them?
  • Loved – he is being so patient with me on this one. He’s given me time, space and hasn’t bugged me about it. I feel like such a let down because I can’t say yes to him. I want to say yes to him yet at the same time if I did say yes and wasn’t emotionally ready to I’m scared it would break something in me.
  • Conflicted – A small part of me wants to throw caution to the wind and say yes. Do it. The other part of me is gripping on for dear life and saying no, I can’t do this. I don’t know which side to give in to.

Yeah, that list hasn’t really helped me at all.

A friend of mine said I should write it down. Process it. And I am writing, but nothing is coming to me.

I know that Cern is not my ex. I know that he wouldn’t do something this huge without my consent and knowing I am 100% OK with it to go ahead.

Yet I have that small part of me waiting for the axe to fall. Is this just a self-confidence thing? Is it because I don’t feel that I’m worth it in some way? Is it just because of dealing with an old lover who shattered me quite a few years ago?

And not long after this conversation my dreams of being pregnant started. Nearly every other night. I’d be pregnant in my head. These dreams were really not helping. Pandora’s box. I have it. I wish I could break it and find the easy solution to this problem.  But I don’t have it. And I don’t know how to deal with an answer for Cern.

Yes?                                     Or no? 

 

2

Mothering. The joys of living with a 70+ year old. And escaping to another state.

Remember when I thought it was a good idea to move back home to help mum out and also save myself some money?

Next time I think of anything remotely interesting like this and being a good Samaritan, someone please slap me back to earth.

Apart from that it’s been a pretty full on 7 months. Cern is living in my mum’s granny flat out the back and spending lots of time between my bedroom and his bedroom. Bless him, he hasn’t unpacked a box yet so there are tunnels from his bedroom to the kitchen & bathroom. At this rate I may need to start nagging him to hurry up so that at least we have a space to escape to that mum isn’t likely to follow.

Cern and I are still going strong. We went on a road trip to Melbourne and surrounds just over a week ago for a week together. He did most of the driving and I did most of the sleeping. There was a reason for all my sleeping, but that’s for another post.

The drive down we ended up doing a bit late because we got distracted at the EB Games Expo, we were meant to be there for a few hours and leave, but ended up staying the whole day.

So on the drive down we stayed at some place. Somewhere. Inland. The sun was out, I was howling with some songs on the radio and Cern hadn’t thrown me out of the moving car yet, I figured we were good.

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We stayed with my other state Wifey and we road tested that her creaky bed does not, in fact, collapse if you fuck on it even after she said to stick to the middle of the bed. We drove around, went sex toy shopping to the local warehouse full of adult things. It was rather boring, believe it or not. I think we go into them more these days because of the novelty of it. Honestly, half the clothes there wouldn’t even fit my nipple in it, let alone my boob. The sex toys weren’t that interesting, I think Cern may have ruined me with Bad Dragon toys. Honestly. We found a jerky house, I kid you not, an actual shop that just sells jerky! Cern had a jerky-gasm.

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Back to the point though. I took lots of pictures, we went dinosaur fossil hunting – which involved me wildly bashing rocks with my geopick while Cern carefully smashed some rocks to look inside a lot. I found the pulverizing cleansing. He got upset at me because a rock I was holding with a fossil dissolved in my hand in the wind. I swear it was an accident. So we had to find him another one lest I die of misplaced wind guilt.

The view along the Great Ocean Road was very pretty though. Here’s some peektures for you all.

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We saw a lot of koala’s running around on the ground. Well. Running is an overstatement. They kind of do this barreling weird walk thing. However they are cute. I don’t care how many I thought were morphing into drop bears at night with their calling out for females to hump and the fact that I nearly crawled up Cern during our night-time wander around the camp yard to find the wifi since we were in the middle of nowhere and had no reception for anything.

The things I learnt about my relationship with Cern after being in a car with him for a week?

  1. He thinks my weird peculiarities are amusing
  2. He doesn’t mind that I sing as badly as nails going down a chalkboard
  3. He lets me sleep and does most of the driving without holding it against me
  4. He says I shrink his car whenever he tries to get back into the driver’s side after I’ve driven because I’m so small and have to move the seat up so far
  5. He’s a funny lil/big shit that makes me laugh a lot
  6. He doesn’t mind stopping when I squee at things and letting me get out of the car to take peektures to show friends on facebook, sometimes even reversing said car back up the road
  7. He laughs at my moody phases
  8. Being near him has a calming effect on me when he’s not hurting me to listen to me giggle or inappropriately groping me in public so I say “sweetie” in a high-pitched WTF did you do man kinda voice
  9. He drives like a mad man when I point out that he’s giving me a heart attack
  10. I love him and thank the stars that he’s hung around for this long

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2

When you lose a family member

For me, my urban family is probably closer to me than my actual family and losing one of them so harshly 5 years ago today hasn’t made this date any easier to bear.

I miss her face. I miss her cheeky smile and most of all, I miss her bear hugs and wit. I miss the way she made me dance with my eyes closed for hours without trying.

Hold onto those you love, whisper what they mean to you because sometimes you just don’t know when they will be gone.

Carpe diem my dears, carpe diem.

Here’s what I wrote last year …


Mental health services available:

Twenty 10 – GLBTIQ youth counselling and other services

Reach Out

Mental health services Australia

Mental Health Services NSW

Beyond Blue – mental health support

0

Insanity. Instability. And love.

This week was meant to be court week.

The week where we got to finally have our say and put the arsehole who raped my friend behind bars. Or at least deported out of the country.

But it’s been postponed. Again.

This weekend had been hard. It was emotionally tough. And poor Cern tried to break through to me on multiple occasions and I didn’t know how to let him in.

Except on Sunday night. The night before all hell was going to break loose. I couldn’t sleep. Even wrapped in his arms I felt restless. Adrift. Alone. I’d walled myself in and as much as I wanted to kick down the walls because I was suffocating I had no idea how to let myself out. I could hear him knocking. But it sounded like he was miles away.

Fear. Anxiety. Depression. Fear.

Fear is such a huge catalyst. The thought that both my friend and I have to go through this again in 3 months terrifies me. That I know it’s for the best and that it’s what he deserves doesn’t lessen the burden of fear. Fear for my friends sanity of having to relieve her rape again and again for 2 years. The fear that this fucking thing will never go away. The fear that she won’t cope and because I’m so emotionally retarded that I won’t be able to help her. Fear that we’d fail. Fear in knowing how often rape cases go to court and the outcomes. Fear that because it was his word against hers and that she’d had a few drinks that night it would mean it’s her fault. Fear that no matter what we said and how we told the truth, that he’d win.

Try as I might I couldn’t verbalise any of it. I couldn’t let it out. For the first time ever I turned from him in the hopes of being able to breathe instead of feeling like I was drowning. I wanted to be in his arms yet felt suffocated when I was. Not because of him, not because of us, but because I was breaking. And to top it off I felt like I was competing for his time with his phone – when I tried to turn over he shut down whatever he was doing and it just made me withdraw more. It felt like he was hiding things from me and that just puts me into a state where I just can’t. I’ve been there, I’ve done that. It was disastrous and to be honest it makes me emotionally wall off even more.

I have a stupid habit of playing my cards close to my chest. It’s how I’ve always been, I’ve never really had anyone else to lean on. So when Cern keeps telling me that I have him I don’t know how to respond. Do I really? Does anyone ever really have anyone to depend on other than themselves? Every single time I’ve reached out my hand has been bitten off. I’m weary. Yet I’m tired. I’m tired of being the strong one. Of keeping it together. I’m just bone weary tired.

So he put his phone down and tried to get me to talk. Repeatedly. The man has the patience of a saint. And for that I’m grateful. Because I was crying on the inside. I was flooding and drowning and I couldn’t talk to him even after he requested I did time and time again.

And then it happened as he touched my arm and moved closer to me. My walls cracked. And as he held me and rolled me on top of him I sobbed great big ugly heaving sobs, he rubbed my back, patted my hair, kissed my wet face and told me over and over again that he’s not letting me go. That I can lean on him and let it out. And I did. I flopped on top of him not caring a wit if I was crushing him and I cried until I felt like I couldn’t cry any more. Except there’s always more tears aren’t there? There are tears and there’s that ugly crying face, which thankfully he didn’t see much of because the room was dark.

And as I cried he explained to me why he loved me. Why I meant so much to him. How I’m now his family and that I don’t have to do things on my own any more. He told me how much his kids loved me and that I was an amazing person. Even as I sobbed that I didn’t want to be me any more, it was too hard. He held me closer as he whispered in my ear about how much I’ve changed & strengthened him and how much love I’ve given him – how he’s never had anyone else treat him like an equal before and how much that means to him. How much I mean to him. And the more he talked the more I cried.

Until he said something like “I told you that I’d make you cry tonight” and I started laughing. Needless to say that sitting up on top of him so I could try to get my snot and tears under control turned into him telling me to not do that because it was hot and he might not be able to control himself. Which then prompted me to move my hips as I felt him get harder under me. There’s something quite powerful about it. Knowing I was covered in snot and tears and yet he still found me arousing. How could I stop now? I continued to grind, wiggle and move against him before he had me on my back and was licking and sucking on my nipples as I asked him to stop. He looked at me confused to which I replied that I just wanted to feel him inside me. Bless him, he obliged.

And honestly? It was blissful. It was sweet, it was soft and it was hot. Especially the bit where I could actually feel him getting bigger towards the end. It’s intoxicating. And when he gets that big I can feel him come deep inside me and it makes me spontaneously orgasm with him. Chain reactions. I didn’t want to disengage from him in that moment. I could have stayed connected for a lifetime. And I felt centred again. I felt connected to him again and all the anxiety, the doubts, the fears receded. I felt all that he had said and more in those moments. I relaxed and I can’t even remember how or when I fell asleep. Only that I knew that sleep was restful being wrapped in him.

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He holds onto me so tightly.

So when we got word the day after that it was all postponed again, along with the anxiety and anguish that we have to go through all this again in 3 months came the calm knowledge that maybe next time won’t be as hard and that I’m honestly blessed with Cern. I’m still keeping him.

13

Lemonade can kiss my zest.

I’ve avoided writing anything deep and meaningful here for a while now. Mostly because the developments with Cern I sometimes like to hoard to myself for the warm fuzzies before I share with others. And the rest, well, mainly because I can’t pinpoint what’s making me feel so … distant? Isolated? Alone? Stressed? Anxious? Actually I’ve not really wanted to vent my insanity. You see, sometimes I even become irrational and crazy because of… well….

Actually there’s a lot of things contributing to it. And as per normal, it all happened around my birthday. Damn that day coming around every year and fucking my life up.

On Monday I received my subpoena to court for the end of March for the sexual and physical assault trial – and instantly, this has added a new slowness to my step. A barrage of feelings and most of all, the feeling of drowning is overwhelming. I try really hard not to think about it, for thinking about it means it’s real and it’s going to happen. Thinking about it makes my eyes leak and my heart hurt. Cern has offered his support, not only to me but my house-mate in any way we may need him that week. I appreciate it greatly, yet I don’t know how to let him help. How do people do it? I’ve been self-sufficient for so long that I don’t know how to not be even when I obviously am not coping.

My cat went missing the other night – the neighbour said she’d seen him sitting outside my bedroom window for a few days hoping I’d let him in. Except I hadn’t been home because I was at work and stayed that night at Cern’s place. Instead of keeping my shit together and looking for him like I usually do. I had a moment in my bathroom where I just broke down before putting my big girl panties on to stop crying. Cat eventually turned up, my anxiety levels stayed high though.

Add on top of that some financial strain and I’m suddenly a hot pot of flatness and I don’t know how to break myself from the spiral. I’m pretty sure I’m really not that much fun to be around at the moment and try as I might, I think that bleeds through and Cern isn’t quite sure what to do with me either.

He asked me what was wrong last night and all I could think of to say was that with the financial stress and the emotional stress and that I’ve been so used to taking care of others and always being the strong one who keeps her shit together that sometimes I don’t know how to let it all go. I honestly don’t. It’s like another leap of faith that I don’t have the energy or the mental capacity to make right now. The thought of making myself vulnerable, even more so than I already feel, is petrifying. I’m scared of what the court case is going to bring, I’m scared of what it’s going to mean for my friend, for me… It’s easier to put on a brave face and act like I’m not falling apart inside. Which I know isn’t fair. On him or me, but the alternative makes me want to run and hide in another galaxy where he can’t find me.

My actual birthday day was beautiful. One day that shone out of the week, it’s helped get me through. We spent a lot of time tangled in each other, touching, patting, fucking… interspersed with him kidnapping me and surprising me with pancakes for breakfast/lunch. I spent the night eating pizza with my house-mate as we hugged and offered each other emotional support and drank some cider. At least she knows she’s not alone. I’m not going anywhere and we’re getting through this together.

I think I might be an emotional basket case.

My feeling of self clarity and self realisations have gone out the window. Everything is murky, like someone’s wiped the windows with a dirty dish rag.

I feel that I haven’t been there enough for my sister who just had her second baby. I haven’t helped her enough. I feel that I’ve let her down in a way by not being there. I was there every other day when my niece was born and my sister came down with that horrible sickness. Granted she hasn’t been sick this time so is very able to look after my nephew on her own, but still. I haven’t done enough.

Cern mentioned that we should move in together. If I moved out to his place I’d need to buy a car. Or a motorbike to get to work and see my friends who all live in the Inner City and he lives way out in the cunt-tree. I get it’s closer to his kids and I wouldn’t want him to move to be further from them. This isn’t always about me and I get that, I’m ok with that. The fact that his kids come first is important, not only to him. But it leaves me with a huge question mark in regards to moving away from everything that’s close and familiar to somewhere that doesn’t have a cafe around the corner (sure the shopping mall is up the road, but it’s not the same as the cafe culture of my town)… It would take me an extra 30 minutes on a train to get to work on top of the hour it already takes. That’s 3 hours travelling a day without a car. It’s such a long way away from anything. I’ve never lived so far from the city and it causes me the same feeling that heart burn gives you.

4 months. I counted. We’ve known each other 4 months yet I feel like he’s never not been a part of my life and I can’t see him not being with me. Contradiction of epic proportions, right? Right. I freaked out. I freak out at big changes like moving in together so soon. Call me old-fashioned, or crazy, or whatever. But 3 months. When is the right time to have the talk about living together? What’s the appropriate time you should be together before cohabiting? I know my ex girlfriend and I pretty much moved in together after a few months and we had nearly 4 years of an awesome relationship. Does it really matter how soon you move in together? We are pretty much spending every night together and I can’t remember the last time I slept alone – so it’s not that different anyway? Yet I’m scared because I would be giving up my social circle, my friends living close by, the social life, the Newtown lifestyle… a quick walk to a cafe, a pub or various restaurants. Yet at the same time I want to move in with him, I want to throw caution to the wind and do it. On the other hand I wonder if it’s not too soon for his kids to see me as a permanent fixture, should they spend more time with their dad alone? I feel like I’m taking time away from them being together sometimes even though I know his kids actually do enjoy my company and I theirs. Then I think that I’m being silly. Sometimes I feel silly. And there’s the issue of moving into a place that he’s lived in for a long time. It’s moving into his territory instead of moving together into new territory and making it ours. Small things, insignificant things probably but things that make me pause and wonder if we shouldn’t wait. So I’ve asked him to give me time, we have to wait till his house-mate moves out so that there’s a spare room anyway and at that point we’ll re-evaluate.

I feel like I’m full of aches at the moment. So many aches. My heart aches. My brain aches. My emotions ache.  So this week, the week of my birth oh so many years ago. Is utter fail. FAIL. Deep and meaningful’s are such hard work.

On the plus side, since the Australian dollar has taken such a nose dive – I’ve been invited to spend a few weeks rolling around on sandy beaches and snorkelling in reefs with my Hellfire urban family in Samoa – as has Cern (the first ever partner that’s been invited to holiday with us in any sense as usually we’ve kept holidays to a tight-knit group). So this will be. At the end of July/August we’re going island hopping.

I may need to find a funny video to share to make this post seem less deary…

23

The beginnings of something different – Part 2

Thanks for not riding my sick arse about updating this thing you lot. I’m still feeling rather ill, but as long as I don’t talk or swallow my throat feels fine!

Back to the story though, Part 1 ended with me watching Cern’s cute arse walk into my bedroom down the hallway…

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No seriously, I’m not a butt kinda gal, but I do love to appreciate a nice arse. They make me want to reach out and touch them. Which I do often if there’s one wiggling in front of me, beside me or anywhere in hand-span vicinity.

Er, getting away from nice arses on men and moving on with the story… I’m so easily distracted, I’m going to blame the horny.

So we walk into my bedroom and he throws his things down, I am still in my bikini from the beach we just drove back from and am covered in salt and feel about as good. I tell him that I honestly really need a shower ASAP before anything and before I could finish my sentence he grabs me, apologised for making the wrong decision and pulls me in for a kiss. Now, to get one thing straight, this man’s kisses make my brain fall out. Every.Single.Time. It’s like that voice he uses in my ear to whisper naughty things, actually let’s revise the whole thing, it’s like he has a direct line to my horny button and pushes it repeatedly like an impatient child waiting for a lift at which point my body sparks out and he’s now controlling my puppet strings while my mind screams “What the fuck is happening?!”. Damn you traitorous body.

Uh, so we kiss, my legs give out at the ferocity of him devouring me and he catches me without fail. I’m pretty sure when he pulled away my eyes may have been glazed over.

He apologised again for making the wrong call the night before and not being with me instead. I wanted to say a lot of things, but these things wouldn’t have been conducive to the discussion. So I said the truth. I was and still am disappointed that I didn’t get to see in the new year with him. Logically I understand why, emotionally it’s still raw.  He sat down on my bed and proceeded to explain what he was thinking and why. What revelations had come to him during his drive away from my house the evening before.

In the short amount of time we’ve known each other, as much as I let him past my walls and into some of the deepest parts of myself, he said I’d somehow wormed my way past his defences. I apologised for wiggling in, I don’t like going places I’m not welcome after all, he shushed me and told me that I’m being a dill. Who knew? As he was talking I drifted closer and closer to him as he sat propped up against my bed-head with his legs out. And somehow I ended up straddling him as we talked.

He looked pained as he was talking and being a bleeding heart I needed to touch him, stroke him, feel him to let him know I’m ok and he’s ok.

We discussed a lot of things that evening. But the basics that we reached agreement on was that we wanted each other in our lives. That we were starting to get emotionally invested and that we were both ok with this. He mentioned that he was going to start pulling away from his other commitments that he had some emotional investment in as he didn’t see any future with either of them. I felt bad that I seemed to be the catalyst to ending his dalliances with others and told him so, he negated my fears by telling me that it wasn’t me that was making this choice for him, that it was his choice to make. And he has a point, this was his decision. He said he eventually wanted to focus on us and to be honest, my heart sort of sang at that.  What I got from all our talk is that he doesn’t want to lose me and he felt that he was or he was going to if things kept going the way they were. Smart boy.

We didn’t talk about being exclusive – so other’s are still involved just not on a deep and meaningful level. More-so for him than me at this point. If only because I’m honestly just not interested in a lot of people. It takes a special something to make me sit up and take note. And those don’t happen every day. Does it bother me? Sometimes yes, other times no. Some days I wonder why he wants to be with me when there’s younger better models out there… and some days I wonder if I’m not enough but then remember that no one is ever everything to anyone. I know this better than anyone, I’ve experienced it, I’ve lived it and breathed it. So it’s a jumble of emotions that I work through daily and sometimes I win the battle, other days I don’t win that much.

I guess for me it meant that I needed to re-evaluate where I stood with him. He asked me what I wanted and I may have looked like a dear startled in the headlights at him. What do I want?

Obviously I couldn’t say world peace, although to be fair the thought did go through my mind. Instead I asked him if I could have a rain check because I need to think about everything we’ve talked about and how this changes what I thought was going to happen.

As we touched, kissed, talked and kissed some more I started to taste the salty goodness that reminded me I needed to shower. I apologised for salting at him and climbed off so I could get naked and wet. He joined me. We continued talking underwater too.

The more we talked the more I couldn’t keep my hands off him. I guess subconsciously I let the flood gates open. We were going on this ride damn it.

And here we stand. Him and me.

Where does it all go? We don’t know yet. All we know and have agreed to is that we mean something to each other and that is what matters. That we keep that going and keep each other a priority even if we shag anyone else.

We may have spent the rest of the having some pretty spectacular sex. However I don’t think we’ve not had spectacular sex before. Either way, it was awesome.

So here we go… grab a cuppa, a blankie and tuck in. We’re going on a ride!

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Don’t forget to send me any Kinky Q & A questions you may have at spankalicious.co@gmail.com or through my contact me page! No question is too silly and if you want to remain anonymous just let me know.

23

Bloggy visitors and the beginning of something different…

I know this update has been long overdue. Y’all can spank me later.

I’ve been really slack, however my 2 week holiday I was taking off to show Johnny around my hometown turned into a whirlwind coming together of me and Cern in the merriest of ways and I felt horrible but it also meant that I spent more time with Cern that at home or anywhere else.

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However it was nearly a week after Johnny landed that I reached my limit of not seeing Cern and decided I needed my hands on him, my face in his chest and to be able to breathe him in. Plus, I was horny. That always helps.

We’d been texting each other a bit in that time anyway, so when he said Tuesday I said yes. There was no other answer to that question. He wanted to cook us his amazing spaghetti bolognaise. He seemed to think I was going to fall to his feet and offer him my eternal gratitude and declare him my food god. And to be fair, he makes a decent spag bol. It was tasty. I still think mine’s better – but as I said to him last night, my spag bol is never the same. I am always adding all kinds of things to it to see what works – especially spicy things.

So while Cern was cooking, him and Johnny were chatting about various things and I was salivating because I was starving and admiring how Cern looked rape-able standing in our suspension frame in the living room. That man has a way of derailing even the best thoughts I have. This night, however, was a night that marked us spending rather a long time in each other’s company.

The next night we both had dates in the City, so we helped each other get ready. It was so comfortable, sure it felt a bit weird when I thought about how we were getting each other ready for a date with someone else, but at the same time, it felt like it was something we’d been doing forever and it was ok. I’m not sure how to describe this feeling. When we kissed each other goodbye on the way out of the door and said “Hope you have a good night” – We meant it. I wanted him to have fun and enjoy his date. On his way back to me from his date however I got a message saying that he felt like shit and I started to fret. He didn’t feel 100% going on the date and I thought he should postpone but he was adamant that he go. I wasn’t going to stop him, he’s a big boy and can make those decisions. I wanted him to call me if he felt that he couldn’t drive to me and I’d get a cab to him to drive him home.

He got sicker the next day so I nursed him for a few nights in my bed. We then moved from my house to his house and I stayed with him for 4 days. I met his kids – who are totally adorable. My niece still wins in the ultimate cute stakes though, but I’ll say his come a close second. Christmas was a bit of a write off, he was still pretty sick so we spent the night doing what two geeks together do best, we set up his living room so that we had a gaming centre and played Diablo 3’s expansion together. We spent our nights curled up sleeping, or if he was feeling up for it we’d fuck. I wanted to make sure he didn’t kill himself in the process, sexing isn’t as important as him getting better but being that I am me, there’s no way I was going to say no to him ripping my knickers off and taking advantage of me.

He returned me home the night before new years eve.

Considering that I’d put out a blanket invite to all my friends to come over with their own food and their own drinks and join us in seeing in the new year I had no idea who was going to show and who wasn’t and thankfully we had a small gathering of my urban family. I couldn’t have asked for better company.

Except I didn’t have Cern.

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He dropped by on Tuesday so we spent some time together before NYE – he said that he had decided to spend the night with his other girl that he was dating. Apparently she was going to be on her own otherwise and he wasn’t up for a big night.

I thought I would be ok with this, I mean I just spent nearly over a week with the guy and we were only meant to be FWB right? Right. A break would be good for us.

But no matter how I rationalised it, my heart wasn’t having a bar of it.

Logically, it made sense. Totally.

Emotionally? Well. Emotionally it felt like I wasn’t important enough to see in the new year with. And no matter how I knew we’d just overdosed on each other for a week, that for this one night, I’d have preferred to spend it with him and would have forgone everyone else.

When he sent me a message saying that he felt wrong, my first thought was he was sick again and I needed to go get him. When he explained that he felt wrong driving away from my house, the penny dropped. He said some things clarified for him during that drive, he wanted to talk to me about it in the new year. My heart dropped, it sounded ominous, until he assured me that it definitely wasn’t. But him feeling wrong about not being with me didn’t change my current situation. That I wasn’t with him and that’s where I would have rather have been. Being that I’m not one to tell someone how to live their lives I told him he made his choice where he was spending the night and that I was disappointed but I wasn’t going to make him feel guilty for not being with me. It’s not the way I roll. I hold my hurt and roll with it. Such is life right? Tomorrow would be a new day.

Epiphany nights? Oh yes, welcome NYE for me. I learnt something that night and as I said to him in the text message, I didn’t want to talk about it because it was making me sad. And NYE shouldn’t be sad, it should be fun. I wanted to enjoy my friends company. Little did I know that he had taken up a whole chunk of real estate in my brain and I couldn’t dislodge him, no matter what I talked about, or what we watched or what I drank.

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I learnt that somehow, even though I hadn’t wanted to, my heart-strings had sneakily attached themselves to this man I’d met. Not only had he snuck under my defences sexually. He’d done it emotionally too. But what do I do with this new information?

I spent a lot of time on NYE pretending to watch movies and thinking. I thought about how my last boyfriend had been with me, but he hadn’t been with me. He was there physically, but mentally, emotionally… he was vacant. I may as well have slept with a friend when it came to him. He was sexually uninterested. He was emotionally unavailable. I took stock of my current situation and I saw parallels that scared me.

As a FWB, the fact that Cern spent a lot of time talking to all his other women while we were together didn’t bother me, nor should it have. I had no emotional connection to him. Nor he to me. But with the added fact that I wasn’t spending NYE with him came the realisation that he didn’t have time for me. But that I also wanted him to have time for me. I couldn’t ask this of him. How could I? We were FWB. That would be changing things. He stated time and time again that he wasn’t ready for a relationship. And I thought I wasn’t either, yet this man pulled at me and made me want something I wasn’t ready to want. So what could I do? Where did this leave me? Us?

I didn’t sleep after midnight on NYE. In fact I was awake until 6am. I watched the sun rise. I laid in bed, tossing. Turning. Crying. Sighing. Kicking myself mentally but deciding that I can’t keep doing this. These are the patterns that I’m trying to break. I made a decision in those wee hours, with a hangover that would have killed anyone else and a headache from crying that would have toppled a better person. My decision? I would walk away from Cern.

I finally fell asleep about 7 am. But I was up again about 10.30 am as we were going with my urban family for a drive to a beach down south that was meant to have water clearer than any tropical island.

Having made a decision I actually enjoyed the time with my urban family at the beach, even if it was with a heavy heart, I knew I’d made the right decision. It’s easier walking away from something at the beginning than it is part way through it when you’re more emotionally involved. The water was indeed pristine. We got scared out of the water by sharks 4 times. But we used the boys as shark bait and made them swim at least 5 meters in front of us. Thanks Johnny!

On our drive back I got a text message from Cern.

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He needed to see me. I asked him when, he said that night. I got a bit confused, aren’t you staying with your other friend tonight too? I thought you were? He said no, he was leaving there to see me. He needed to see me. The urgency of his text messages caught me. Ok I said. We’re driving home now. It’s a 2 1/2 hour drive back to Sydney from Jervis Bay. We’ll be home about 7 – 7.30 depending on traffic.

I got a message from him saying he was at my place at 7 pm. I said we’re still on the road and that we’ll be there soon. We got home about 7.30 pm that night. As Johnny and I rounded the corner of my apartment I saw him sitting on the floor outside the door of my apartment with his laptop propped in his lap. The image made me smile genuinely for the first time in the last 24 hours.

He looked frazzled. Sitting there like that. And the knowledge that my insides were happy at seeing him didn’t pass me without me noticing. But I was more curious about what he wanted to talk to me about and why the urgency in needing to see me when he had established plans with someone else.

So I helped him inside the apartment…

Watch this space for part 2.

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Also don’t forget that I’m doing Kinky Q & A again now guys! I’ll missing this week but will post up questions next week. So feel free to email me : spankalicious.co@gmail.com or through my contact me page up the top!