Some old junk in the trunk.

Last night I had a lovely evening with Miss B. We talked and talked and talked; and when I was finished talking... she talked some more. All of the conversations were mildly controversial. There was a fair bit of gossip about our mutual friend, but overall, it was a pretty chill chat. Until BAM outta nowhere, SHE brings up Coles Bay and the time I had in Tasmania and Sam. Usually, these are not delicate topics for me to discuss; but here she was yabbering on a mile a minute about things I wasn't sure I wanted to discuss.

Then I realized about half way through the conversation that all of this talk of blue skies, beaches and broken hearts wasn't making my palms sweat. This discussion did not leave a hole in the bottom of my stomach, I wasn’t shaking, and I wasn’t zoned out. Instead I felt calm. I felt like I could talk about all of this business without loosing my cool. I felt free. I didn't realize I was fully comfortable looking back, even though I professed to just that yesterday to you bloggy.

Last night she asked me the most controversial question of all. She asked me if Sam was here in Canada would I choose to be with him… a question with so many variables and improbabilities that answering is nearly impossible. But rather than hash out all of the problems in this question, I took it for what she meant it to be, a heart-thinker; and answered her as honestly as I could. I said “I’m happy I’m not in Australia anymore, and I’m happy Sam isn’t here anymore because he wasn’t happy. I don’t think we were right for each other, even though we needed each other for a time. I’m happy we’re not together anymore and I would choose not to be with him, even if he was my next door neighbor. At the end of the day he is a lovely person, and I care for him, and I want us both to be happy; and I don’t think we could ever be happy together.”

Phiew….. deep. I’m sorry blog. It just feels so liberating to throw that out to you. It is 100% true, because today I am straight truthing, I’m too tired to conjure lies. I don’t think Bex was really listening when I said this. She likes to talk and this was far too long of a discussion involving me talking for her to be completely comfortable. I was happy to change the subject, not because I was uncomfortable… but because I was bored with talking about it. The same way I’m bored with talking about it now.

I must admit it feels good to write again, even though it’s just to you bloggy. Next time I’ll try not to go so deep on you bloggy. I’ll try and keep it light, and fill it with lies… but for right now you get the truth. The good stories will come later.