alignandrealign

[alignandrealign]

The Heirloom

Chapter 2

It was later in the afternoon and my phone pinged a couple times in a row, catching my attention. I was building a wooden train track with my 4 year old nephew at the time, he was enthralled with how well we had placed the pieces together to make a loopy and windy track with all the possible pieces we had. I finished putting down the last piece and he started up the battery operated train. Toot toot – it was bliss. My phone pinged again and I stood up and walked over to the kitchen table to check it. My screen showed notifications from a couple of guys online, nothing really alluring, so I put my phone back down and continued to play with Jack. Later that evening we were packing up the toys and my phone buzzed in my jumper pocket, I didn't even register the motion before my hand had automatically swooped in and pulled it out to show whatever was on the screen. I was mentally distracted by what Jack was doing, but opened the notification instinctually.

"Steve: I'm going to assume you are in the throws of a covid takedown and unable to respond to my messages, I hope you survive!".

It was bold, funny and cute. I chuckled to myself and responded, alluding to the relaxing day I had spent with my mum and Jack, and apologising for my recent lack of replies. I hadn't even realised I had messages from him prior, short conversations even. I must have been unconsciously chatting to him on the app that weekend but didn't really take to much notice of him. I clicked on his profile and immediately recognised the mysterious profile he had, his words still had me on the edge, even then. I had obviously decided to swipe right on him after a couple days of deliberating - what's the worst that could happen? – famous last words. I definitely didn't see the two and half year, very deep but equally as toxic romantic relationship coming for me in just a few months time.

We talked on the phone for hours, about everything and anything. past relationships, music taste, favourite flavours of foods. It felt effortless and he made me giggle and wriggle with excitement like a little kid. I told my friends I loved his voice already, we hadn't even met in person yet, we weren't sure if we even could. Going out and about was pretty much forbidden and if you did go out, it definitely wouldn't be to go on a date. Most people were only venturing out for the essentials. I was annoyed that some of my friends were still dating so I allowed myself the same pleasure and agreed to meet up with him!

I was excited but relaxed, not even dressed up because I felt comfortable in myself and didn't want to put too much effort in if it was just going to be a dud date. I arrived at his apartment and texted him. "I'll be down in five" he replied. I stood out the front looking around at the area he lived in, it was so quiet compared to the last time I was in Fremantle, and I hadn't really been to this side of the city, right near the cruise ship docks. Beach Street was a main road that hugged the edge of Fremantle and followed along the river under one of the main traffic bridges. It felt semi industrial because of the old wool factory buildings that towered over the street. The city had refurbished them into luxury appartments with their heritage character and renamed the building The Heirloom. Steve lived somewhere inside, I imagined his apartment with the tall floor to ceiling windows with an open air loft or mezzanine level. It's how I dreamed all Fremantle appartments would be like - quirky, artsy and full of warm afternoon light. I checked my phone and seven minutes had passed since he had messaged me. I felt confused. This was our first "date" so to speak and I was standing aimlessly waiting outside a building for a man I had never met before. Something felt off but I continued to wait, patiently. Maybe he's just sprucing himself up a bit. Another five minutes passed and I was fed up. "Hey, are you coming down?" I texted him, starting to feel annoyed but also slightly embarrassed. Maybe he saw me already and decided he didn't want to meet me. Had he seen my body and just decided to stand me up? [We'll unpack that later on] I rang his number and he answered. "Sorry I'm coming down the stairs now, turn around." I turned and there he was, leisurely descending the staircase inside the glass entrance of the four story red brick building. His eyes were locked intensely on me while coming down the last few steps and casually pushed the access button to unlock the main door. I immediately felt a sensation hit my stomach. Was it butterflies or uneasiness? I had the strongest thought come through, this was either going to be the best thing that ever happened to me, or the worst. Maybe both.

[alignandrealign]

Deep Breaths

Chapter 1

I'm sitting in my best friend's spare bed and my heart is racing. The room around me feels hotter then five minutes ago and I cannot muster the strength to get up and strip myself of my clothing to cool down. It's been three weeks since I walked out of my long term relationship, which means I don't really have a "home" anymore, I'm pretty much just drifting through the motions of my day to day life while stumbling through this unknown territory of being 32 years old and single again.

Being single isn't new to me but where I am now wasn't what I thought my life would look like at this age, especially when I had dreams of meeting my soul mate, travelling the world and making cute babies in a warm comfortable home together. Boy was I wrong.

I was synchronistically introduced to the Audiobook "Single on Purpose" by John Kim just the other day. I started playing it in my car on my way to work to help setup my morning in a positive mindset. Single on Purpose – making a choice to walk away from everything you know and everything that's comfortable, for the promise of growth, a better future, a more fulfilled life or maybe just peace. That's what it was for me, peace. I take another deep breath and kick the covers off my legs and allow my body to cool down. more deep breaths, I centre myself. The choice to jump was mine to make, the big leap of faith into the scary abyss that ended up not really being too scary at all. There's much scarier things than walking away from something that's not for you anymore, even if it's uncomfortable. Staying is definitely scarier. The decision to leave my relationship has lead me into three weeks of deep rest, growth and a chance to experience deep love and support like I have never experienced before, so I know now it was the right choice. Maybe it was meant to be or maybe I just refused to repeat the same patterns any longer. Either way I was out. I was free and I was writing again.

The last three years has been a total whirlwind of a ride. I met Steve just as the pandemic was kicking in for us. We live in Perth, Western Australia so it was pretty much 6 months after the rest of the world got hit. We didn't even think it was real at this point, just a lot of media swirling around about people getting sick and dying with equally as many conspiracy theories about it being fake, an overly dramatic cold or a declaration of biochemical warfare. I was in my own little world, living in a cosy duplex at the end of a cul de sac in Carine, a leafy suburb close to the beach about 20km north of the city. I had worked really hard to get to this place in my life – after several relationships had broken me down, this was now the manifestation of two years of being single and putting my self and my own dreams first. I wasn't about to compromise it all for just anyone.

Steve was someone I met online through a typically lousy dating app called Tinder – I know what you're thinking, what did I expect? You're right, there were so many reservations I had about even dating anyone at this point, but online was the way to do it and Tinder was familiar to me following two years of being single. I wasn't overly active online though, simply hoping on every now and then for a late night swipe in my bedroom before falling asleep. Sundays were also a good time; slow and quiet mornings meant people were laying in, relaxing and reminiscing on their ventures from the nights before – more reflective and open to talking about deeper things rather than what they do for work or how many bitcoins they own. It wasn't some strategy I had, I just felt softer on Sundays and was happy to indulge in lengthly conversation with strangers.

I had seen Steve's photo pop up and I was instantly struck by how mysterious he seemed. His profile consisted of four or five casual photos of him in various locations but none of them were very clear. They were pictures of him at a distance, standing in shadow or with sunglasses on. I could see his face, his stature and his style, but not his eyes. I'm big on eyes. They speak a truth no words or actions could and it's how I like to gauge the depth of a person. I didn't swipe left or right that morning. I read his words and looked through his photos, then read his words again, contemplating whether he was a good fit, even just for a conversation or exchange of energy. I was pretty protective of my energy at this point and didn't want to just give it away in exchange of a fleeting feeling of validation or attention. I reviewed his profile again then closed the app, packed my duffel bag and drove up to mums. We were heading into a lock down and Mum and I both lived alone so we decided to spend it together.