Day 17 Kythnos Island, Greece

In hindsight, it guess it would have been cool to blog from each location. Going from Bologna to Greece seems like a lot of missed opportunities .

It's just after 6am here on this amazingly beautiful Greek island, where we have a mind boggling view of the port from our picturesque BnB. It's still dark like night. It's the stuff day dreams are made of. All of it.

Speaking of day dreams. I am just... struggling... to put words to this somewhat different? feeling I am having. Incongruent. It's an incongruent feeling. I suppose it's something like feeling beside myself: is this really happening, who the fuck am I, or better yet, who the fuck have I become? kind  of thing.

Day 17, essentially 9 days left of a 26 whirlwind trip around Italy with a jaunt over to (amazing) Greece with my boyfriend, partner, co worker, lover, whatever-you-call-it person.  It's been more than perfect, we even managed sleeping in a single bed together at his Aunt and Uncles, and I persevered around solely greek speaking people. There so much to write about it all, perhaps I will save that type of recounting for when I get back and it can be steeped with reflection. Now, I just want to write about all this stuff inside me, these inconsistencies.

My life with this man. What the fuck? I don't understand it. On paper, as it stands right now, it's lovely and perfect. It has ups and downs, space and togetherness, but I'm missing something for me - and I think it's more space. More independence.

Leaving my marriage, I never wanted to walk into another marriage. I didn't want to be one with someone else; and here I am, one with someone, living in a one bedroom apartment just steps away from our shared place of employment.

We talk about whats next,  because I was very upfront that the living at this place thing was a means of saving for this trip (which I barely did, btw). I have been upfront that I would be moving after. So, we discuss getting a larger place for us. And sometimes, I really, really want that.

I think back to when I had my own place and it was somewhat exhausting not just cohabiting the same place. It was like never ending dating. Living together seemed like it would be easier to just do our own things and come back at the end of the day. However, that started to seem like marriage. As if somehow, we started to lose that loving feeling, that urgency to see each other.

So, maybe, it would be better for me to just have my own little bachelor space?

But, a two bedroom space also seems idyllic, with an art/guest room. But, it would come at a cost, we would become a working relationship.

Perhaps the version where we get a real place seems like an attempt to "play house" and be a certain type of couple that I've written a story for in my head - and those never end like you expect. But I can't help but write the fairly tale story of happily ever after.

As I write this, the sun is slowly rising while I sit on this amazing white, beautifully furnished, deck on a greek island. One has to wonder how one could possibly be conflicted. 




I love him, but sometimes it doesn't seem real. It seems like a story book that I'm reading, not living.

And it's a fault in me. Somewhere inside me, I'm not allowing myself to accept this (and then, not accepting that I'm not accepting it). I'm not saying this in a oh I've lived such a traumatic life that I can't allow myself to accept something good boring kind of way. It's like I'm not allowing myself to accept it because I know where it's going to end and... well... I don't want that journey. I've had that journey.

I don't want the happily ever after  story. I just want the hey, look at you waking up and living your life each day where I am, potentially, someone different on different days. Somedays, I'm independent me who is not in love and is an empty slate (aka a grown-ass woman). Some days, I'm in love and joy and sex with my friend and lover (a grown-ass woman enjoying herself on her terms). Other days, I'm a mom and women, gracefully/joyfully getting older, sharing my soul with my adult children, family, and close friends (a woman truly in love with her life).

It's conflicting - maybe - but I think that's what I want. Those three things.