The shit girls say.
Trip Start Sep 28, 2011
332Trip End Ongoing
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There we were, falling asleep in hammocks, watching The Snowman cuddled over a laptop, laughing, playing pool on a shitty table, meeting a parent, playing chess, making plans. A memorable Christmas Eve kiss that I will never forget. A beautiful Aphrodite that stole my affections in a lot less time than it usually takes. Maybe by a day or so.
"You’re falling in luuuurve" my friend Beth drawls at the front desk of the hostel. “I am not!” came the firm reply, betrayed only by the grin on my face and a sparkle in my eye. I wasn't falling, but for a few days, it might have felt like I was. I couldn’t be could I? How can I? I’ve known her less than 72 hours. Yet there it was, residing somewhere in the depths of my stomach, that funny little feeling that if nurtured, could certainly grow into something wonderful and yet equally heartbreaking. Ahhhhh…once again dear readers, it is the latter. Hey, if it was anything else, it just wouldn’t be me would it?
"As the hippie w commitment issues I want to travel alone. I evaluated my recent plans and realized I was only traveling to CR because I felt bad that you don't speak Spanish. But I have a feeling that's why you went to San Juan in the first place.
I may stay in Granada and head to San Juan w the group from last night for new yrs. I may stay in Granada for new yrs.
I don't want to go to Montezuma at all. It reminds me of my ex. I may just take bus all the way to jaco.
I don't know. But I do know that I'm single and hanging w you it feels I have obligations to entertain you and translate.
I want to just do as I planned and wing it alone. And honestly I'd feel safer alone.
Nothing personal but you look like a perfect target for a robbery and alone I'd feel less like a target.
Plus, again, commitment issues. I can't make plans and stick to them for someone else. This is my trip and I want to be free to go where I want when I want and w/o explaining why. It's why I'm single and I haven't felt like that w you."
Translation; I’m going to stay in Granada because I want to fuck the owner of this bar, and I like him more than you. The passing comment about me looking like an easy target for robbery was unnecessary; I take that as a kick in the teeth.
Regardless of how true it is.
I had a dream last night. I dreamed that Hay-Lee went off with five different guys, all of whom had their faces on playing cards. It was one of those dreams you swear is real, and you question yourself when you wake. It just so happened that I was involved in a drinking game the previous night, with cards, with the owner of this bar (who incidentally was only at my table because of my two very attractive Norwegian friends). I left early, because he was flirting outrageously with the girls, I wasn’t getting a word in, and Hay-lee had disappeared earlier anyway.
Whether he got with the two girls is a moot point. He certainly had the girl I was falling for. He’s a 6 foot something Dutchman, blond, well built with that winning smile. He owns and operates the most exclusive bar in Granada. Every 'girlfriend’ I’ve been in the company of at this place has fallen for his charm. I don’t joke or fabricate when I say he has literally taken them away from me. I can’t compete with that.
It makes you wonder why I keep going back doesn’t it?
I had booked a private room in a hostel in San Juan Del Sur;at her suggestion, as it was easy to get over the border to Costa Rica. Yes I know it’s San Juan Del Sur, but it was one night…ONE night I tell you. Laying low, watching films from the comfort of our room. With someone who appeared to be pretty special. It wasn’t going to be the same experience as before.
Oh. It suddenly dawns. THAT’S why she wanted to go back out last night. Feeling feverish, Walked her home after we called briefly at the bar. I wondered why she wanted to come back with me after we arrived at the hostel? It was because of the owner. Wow. The penny drops. And it lands pretty hard.
“I might meet Erik for lunch today.”
“Because I like him.”
And there was I, beaten, with no cards left to play.
My friends departed this morning, the hostel fumigates the rooms again, I sit in an opticians waiting for another botched eye exam, and write on my laptop. A prime target for robbery…
I get it. I really do. She’s not interested. She’s flighty. She’s ‘enjoying being single’. She’s wanting to fuck around with a better looking filthy rich guy. It’s just instead of a snowflake on my arm, I have a heart on my sleeve; and this morning; it’s feeling a little broken.
I wonder what Charles Bukowski would do…?