16 – Breakdown Hotel
When I finally recovered from the events of getting caught in between two lovers it was then that I realised that I wanted a relationship again. For several weeks I could not shake that feeling that CB and I where still destined to be together. We started messaging each other intensely again and I felt the spark re-ignite within me. A week later we where right back where we left off, talking every day declaring our un-dying love for each other, the whole time I thought I was doing the right thing. We had time apart, we had grown and moved on but found our way back to each other. Surely this was meant to be right? These are the deluded rantings I would tell myself and I am sure that he was doing the same thing.
We started flying back and forth on the weekends to see each other, I would go to Sydney as soon as I could get off work on the Friday and we would spend the entire weekend having sex in cheap motel rooms and eating our way around the city. A month went by and we agreed that we needed to move back in together. We where declaring our un-dying love for each other, I was convinced that this was it. I quit my job (for the second time!) sold most of my things, said goodbye to some amazing friends and came back to Sydney to move in with CB in Chatswood. This time I was determined to never come back, and I never did.
CB was living with a couple, a high maintenance typical Sydney couple who lived above their means, thought they where the hottest thing since sliced bread and where generally rude and full of their own self-worth. Naturally we did not get along and the whole house just felt awkward and strained. I would sneak around the house not wanting to run into either of them to have to muffle an awkward “hi” with small talk that they would just brush off anyway.
In this house they lived in the front part while CB and I inherited the back part. The room was as small as a shoebox and we had crammed as many belongings as we could into this minuscule room with no a/c in a stifling Sydney summer heat. Definitely not the place to start healing a fucked up relationship! I took a few weeks between jobs to get my head settled and spent my days walking around the city thinking about what I wanted and my future. I spent the better part of a morning and early afternoon walking through the chinese gardens in Darling Harbour with a notebook and pen. As I sat down and marveled at this immense beauty that dwelled within such a large and ugly city I pondered our whole relationship and what I had done by moving here. We had stopped having sex and being intimate in a physical sense and it really made me question what I had done moving here. I remember CB telling me when he dated Cherry Jones (like a million years ago when he was still living at home and first came out) that after they had problems he had used Cherry as a way to move out of home and find his way and as I remembered the story and the malicious way he had retold it, I realised with much disgust that I had done the exact same thing.
I stood up to leave trying to shake this new found revelation off my skin and headed back to the train station to go back to our place so I could be home when CB did. The next couple of weeks we spent discovering the city, going to restaurants, shopping, movies, trying to meet and make new friends and blend them together. I eventually got bored of not doing anything all day and my cash supply ran dry so I started looking for work and two days later I started a new job. I started making new friends on my own and he wasn’t a fan of any of the people I was hanging out with and I felt the same about his work friends. Just when I was convinced that this was going the same way as it always had we headed to the movies on Saturday afternoon to see the latest Saw movie. I have always had a weak stomach and the Saw movies always left me feeling sick and unsettled and I had never seen one at the movies before. We sat through the movie and I ran to the toilet to throw up as it was just too much for my poor little eyes. Walking out of the movie theatre we decided to go to dinner somewhere along the harbour, I was still feeling really sick and light headed from the movie and thought maybe food would cheer me up. As we walked along talking about where we would eat I stopped and told them that I couldn’t do it. I told CB to go ahead and have dinner with his friends and I would get a taxi home. He insisted that he would be coming with me and we got in a taxi to go home. He took me into bed and forced me to lie down for half an hour. I regained some composure and started feeling better, I got out of bed and we decided to order pizza and watch a movie. He was so concerned about my health and well-being, had I just been imagining all of these problems again?
A few weeks went by and I started feeling the same, like my move here was just one big colossal mistake. I was missing my friends back in Adelaide, my job here sucked and I couldn’t stand it. As part of my frustration I made a new profile on an internet website for the Sydney area and started talking to other guys advertising myself as “single.” Before you judge I already know that it was a colossal mistake but I will ask if you will to consider everything that you have read up until this point. My emotional state was completely unhealthy and I had no self control over how I was acting, I am not using this as an excuse but I know understand the mental anguish I was in and why I chose to do this. I told myself I was trying to find his profile but secretly was trying to find someone else to latch onto so I could escape this toxic relationship and be the triumphant winner of the impending break up.
The next week I met a guy for dinner and a movie, yes it was an official date. I have never felt so bad or guilty in my whole life. He was my type completely and I could easily see myself falling for this guy and spending a great life together. I fumbled through the date clearly not ready to move on, not ready to finally let CB go and admit that we where completely incompatible, completely toxic oozing out disfunction from all sides. At the movies he leant it to kiss me and thank god he was a completely horrible kisser. There was no passion in the kiss, no desire, no feeling, it was seriously like kissing a boring, wet fish. The movie finished and so did our evening, I headed home feeling so guilty and prayed that he had no read it all over my face.
We awoke the next morning to be told from our oh so happy housemates that the house had been sold and that the new owner would be moving in 30 days and we had to move out. Frantically we looked for other places, still not knowing where we wanted to settle we hit a roommate website and decided on another share house while we made our final decision. CB was loving the Chatswood/North area and I was more of a Paddington/Darlinghurst dweller. Cutting it way too close to the move out date we looked at a townhouse in Lane Cove with a owner who lived in the property. The townhouse was ok, we would have our own bedroom and bathroom on our own level of the house. Cheaply decorated and it seemed to emit this odd scent that I could just not get used to.
Arguing about the place he wanted it, but I did not it came to moving day and we had to move, I had no choice. We moved all of our stuff into the townhouse and then the owner told us that the $300 a week rent was each not for both of us. I was completely shocked that we could not have two rooms, just one and one bathroom, clearly this bitch was trying to milk us. When she told us this I told CB that I would put my stuff in storage and drift between his house and my Mum’s in Newcastle as I was still working in the city.
Obviously I didn’t spend anytime at my mums and most of my days where spent at CB’s house and that is just how it would have to be. A week of living in the new house and CB pulled me into the bedroom one day, expecting a romantic gesture, he sat me down on the bed and told me that the owner was a prostitute, like literally. He had a few days off and had noticed that guys would come and go to her bedroom all day for about an hour at a time and then they would leave. He had asked her about it and she had admitted to her whore-ish ways, well that explains the strange scent! I was completely taken aback and wasn’t sure what to say or feel about this situation, we where living at the Moulin Rouge only this wasn’t full of singing and dancing.
After hearing this news I had no idea how to act around her, it just resulted in some extremely uncomfortable conversations and passing by up and down the stairs. The weirdest part of all is that she had a boyfriend and two children who stayed at the house a fair bit. This was seriously weird and I had no desire to be anywhere in this kind of environment.
Warning: what you are about to read my shock you and sound like I had a psychotic break, and in some ways I did. My brother called me in the morning to say that he was in town for a conference for his church and would like me to come with him and catch up, so I agreed. That night CB dropped me off at Olympic Park to meet up with my brother and say hi. He convinced me to stay for the meeting and I followed him inside. It was one of those massive revival type meetings with a guest speaker from the USA. The music was loud and pumping, the energy was swirling and for the first time in a very long time I felt something. I could not explain what it was or who it was but I felt something. I was so desperate to get out of my situation that I caved. The speaker asked if anyone out there had lost their way, had been on a track and lost it and now was so lost that they did not know what to do. I raised my head as I started to connect with what he was saying. “Does anyone out there feel anything tonight? If that is you raise your hand!” As he said these words up shot my hand. I could already feel my brother and sister staring at me with mouth’s wide open in complete and total shock and something inside me broke.
I sat on the cold hardwood floor of that auditorium and cried for hours, I cried for the last few years of my life, all the pain, all the deceit, I let it all out. Foreign hands rubbed my back, tissues passed through my folded arms from time to time and a love and acceptance started to fill my being and I began to mend my severely broken heart. I felt a rush of love, forgiveness and acceptance that I was so desperately searching for, I knew that this was where I had to be at this time in my life and deep down I knew I was doing the wrong thing but I went ahead with it anyway.
That night I went home to CB and barely slept, I called in sick to my job and arrange for my things to be sent back home. This was it, no more running I had to be free, there would be no teary goodbyes, no running after each other again, just a clean and pure break that I would have to endure as there was nothing else I could possibly do, I was at breaking point and I had to do something or I feared for my life and the kind of future I could have. My mental capacity was not coping with anything that was happening and I had lost complete control of my body at this stage. I was 120 kilograms and getting bigger every week, I was a fat blob of unhappiness, living in a complicated and messed up relationship and I saw one way out.
Deciding against telling CB the spiritual revelation I had the night before I quietly packed up and moved back home. I moved back in with my parents in a tiny 2 bedroom place where I resided in the lounge room, not the most ideal place in the middle of nowhere with a two bus a day service, and with no license this was going to be the hardest clean break. Having just moved back I had no local friends, no support network outside my family who I could talk to or confide in about how I was feeling and what I was feeling. No-one to have cocktails and go clubbing with, and besides my new found faith forbade such things. I resided to the fact that I was still working in Sydney which involved waking up at 3:30am every morning, getting ready for work, getting on the train for 3 and a half hours, going to work all day completely exhausted from doing the same thing the day before, leaving work at 5pm and getting home at around 9pm with all the transfers and waiting around. This was not going to be easy or pleasant. What was I going to do? I had no other options and all around me I was surrounded by church and family and for a small fraction of the time I felt acceptance and love, but this was only fleeting. One of the girls that had talked to me during my “conversion” had told me that she used to be a lesbian, but through the power of Jesus and God she knew that she was destined to be “straight” and she understood what I was going through. I had no way to suppress these feelings, I could not just push them down and pretend that they don’t exist, but these people told me I had to, so for a short and fleeting moment I did, I pushed the feelings along with my thoughts and cares about my past relationship into the deepest and darkest part of my heart and pretended for one whole month that they did not exist, that was until an old friend of mine contacted me to catch up after several years of not seeing each other, and this is when my whole world changed.