real talk

A few nights ago, a windstorm blew through Cala Gonone. It ripped thick branches off of trees, blew pine needles and brush and leaves into the streets, and closed down most of the shops in town. The sea waves were flung from their usual flow, spraying their water in haphazard directions. The windows of our apartment howled and debris was thrown against their glass. The entire apartment creaked and moaned. Neither of us slept.

The next morning it was still breezy but the air was crisp and clear, we could see down the coast for many more miles than in days prior. The horizon of the Mediterranean was well-defined and the sky was a truer shade of blue. The curls in my hair from the humid air started to let go and uncoil.
We both noticed how conducive these conditions were to rock climbing, so we stuffed our gear into our packs and drove out on the winding road that curves with the coast of the island and parked our rental car near the mouth of the limestone-dense canyon. But we never did go climbing that day.
I have always struggled to know exactly what this blog is, what I should share and what I should keep to myself, what is worthy of something as silly as the internet and what should be left as a conversation with a close friend over a glass of wine. But the value of the internet is that we can reach millions of people, and the only reason I write on such a public platform is because I think that my struggle is your struggle too. Sharing the ways in which our hearts have broken is the only way to love each other and be loved back, and the only way to heal. I think what needs to be kept as mine are the small details, the drama, the not-so-real stuff.
We sat in the car and looked out at the sea, her waves calmer now, the sun sprinkled glitter all over its surface. We always knew in a very quiet way that our relationship was, for reasons that are only worthy of spoken word, not working. It wasn’t until that moment however that we were brave enough and clear-headed enough to let that truth breathe. The why and the what happened doesn’t even really matter, because you all know exactly how it goes. You’ve all been there.
What I will share is this—it wasn’t for lack of love. From either of us. Anyone who spent even one moment around us knows that to be true.
The next day was the solar eclipse and the new moon, and there was something within in me that felt brighter, something was glowing. A week or so back, we took a boat out to Cala Goloritze, I leaned over the side as my hair whipped in the wind. The sea water looked different, it didn’t appear clear like I knew it to be, but opaque, a rich aqua marine with gold woven throughout. It was glowing, the only other thing I knew to glow with that kind of power was the sun. But then, I realized there was something else that could glow in that way too, it is something housed within my own self. And it’s within Ethan too. It’s in the stray cat who has become our house cat who we named Hannie Mavis and it’s in the little boy who rides his bike what I think is too fast down our steep hill and it’s within his small dog who runs alongside him. It’s in Chensia and the Kennedys and the woman who rings up my groceries and wears heavy eyeliner and it’s in the mosquitoes that buzz around my head as I try to sleep. It’s in the lizards with bright blue tails and the ants swarming our compost bin, it’s in the limestone that rips through the Sardinian hillsides, the grasses, the thick, thorny vines that choke the rocky foot trails, the sea urchin nestled in to a small scoop inside of a coastal cave, the school of fish that glimmered below my legs, the birds riding the wind that I saw while floating face up in the sea with my limbs and fingers and toes splayed out wide, like I meant it, but softly, releasing my grip, letting go, letting go, letting it all go, my ears were under the water’s surface so all I could hear was my own breath, coming and going, rising and falling, my face in the sun, jaw unclenched. Tears, saline as the sea, run down my face like rivers that finally found the ocean.
Things come and go like the passing of the seasons and the phases of the moon and the tide and the winds. But one thing must always remain, it will always remain whether we want it or not, and that is our truth. The key is not to fight it, to let it breathe and to trust it, to speak of it, let that be where all of your movement comes from. It will never lead you into darkness.
And now, we are enjoying each other more than ever. Enjoying each other as two people who want a relationship that is different from the one we used to have, two people who want to focus on themselves and feel free, two people who maybe don’t even want a relationship at all, two people who are being totally honest with each other and with themselves, two friends, or maybe that’s a weird word, two people who simply love each other and think the other person is hilarious and adorable. God it feels good, and we are having more fun than we ever have.
So no need to worry about us. This trip has been exactly what each of us needed it to be.

4 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Julie Kennedy
    Oct 28, 2014 @ 14:23:21

    Georgie – I’m falling in love with your writing but most of all I’m falling in love with YOU! Thank you for sharing your stories and opening your heart. May our worlds connect sooner than later!
    Respect, Julie


  2. Narinda
    Oct 30, 2014 @ 20:52:25

    written with such gentleness and reverence for the experience. brave of you to share this. cheers to your new lightness.


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