The ground was shifting beneath me again. I may be a "spiritual gangster" and shit, but my mind was still filled with uncertainty and my bones ached with the threat of loneliness which I knew would only intensify over the next two years while living on a private resort island in the Caribbean with a population of three hundred.
I signed the dotted line and the next few months were a chaotic mess of fear, numbness and denial mixed with the excitement of possibility. The idea of uprooting my life in such a big way seemed like pure fiction. How could I possibly be the protagonist of such a crazy adventure where one rids themselves of all their worldly possessions, says goodbye to friends and family, their favorite creature comforts; and moves to a private island for the next two years of her life?
When I accepted the invitation for a third interview in Turks & Caicos, I already knew I was gonna take the job. My heart still wasn’t in it but I knew I’d be a fool to cave into stubbornness and dismiss this once in a lifetime opportunity. But I was still scared of committing to the unknown for two years.
Whether or not I'm going through a bonafide mid-life crisis is uncertain. I mean maybe it's pure coincidence that I'm about to turn forty-four and life just happens to suck at the moment. But the cool thing about being a true Indie Girl and a grown-ass woman, is my ability to acknowledge life's current suckiness and its vortex of negative emotions without losing myself in it.
Monogamy feels important at this point in our relationship because it would make me feel valued in the way I need. It would allay my fears of being temporary 'booty' while Mr. Weird Science hopes for someone better to come along. Monogamy would create the safety for even deeper levels of physical and emotional intimacy. It would reflect a shift of intention and that I might not be wasting my precious forties on a relationship going nowhere.
