dragons & rock stars
My heart whispers to my head "who is that?" "No idea", my head replies, "stay casual and aloof. I’ll watch him for you".
If you prefer, listen to the 6-minute audio recording of this story here.
When I was a little girl I had a vivid daydream of myself with long flowing hair tending to flowers in a garden outside a stained-glass dome. And I had a lover. A soulmate that I felt so intimately merged with we were the polarities of one entity. That’s what I thought love would be like.
Now, many years later, I am that same girl, sometimes with long flowing hair, others with not, and am yet to experience complete peace within a romantic relationship. I have had a few great loves, and once a small taste of that dream, but humans come with their own set of wounds and fears that we project on each other and then the rifts begin.
Most of us haven’t been taught the emotional maturity or self-responsibility to navigate those fissures with kindness and compassion and often end our relations with some degree of resentment and heartbreak or pain.
Love has always been a favourite topic of mine because nothing else brings both the best and the worst out in us. I promise that ‘kismet’, this letter won’t become a relentless enduring contemplation on love and my romances. It’s just where we are beginning as I embark on my recent renewal.
The idea was always to just get the energy moving back into an area that had been unusually stagnant. So I have to confess that… the day after my last letter to you… I deleted Hinge. I was not enjoying the chats or the way the interactions work.
I’ve decided that I’m going to rely on my natural enigmatic magnetism and the heightened sensuality of summer to attract men into my world.
There was one more date, technically date number 2, rescheduled. But let’s call it Date 4. for the sake of my non-linear numbering system.
Date 4. Dirk.
We meet at a restaurant overlooking the sea for sunset. I ask him questions that he gives ludicrously long answers to without asking me any in return. I am so bored. At some point, he tells me he has to confess something: that he is not 40, but 54. So you’re my dad’s age, I reply.
I know what you’re going to ask: couldn’t you tell by looking at him? And no, I couldn’t because my brain doesn’t understand age. There are only 3 categories in my world. Children, adults, wise ones. And those categories are arranged by the energy of a person. Based on my system we can assume he has immature adult energy.
I’m annoyed and I ask him his horoscope. Gemini, he says, but doesn’t know the rest. He wants to know what his other signs were. I tell him to look it up. Then he nods his chin forward — an action implying that I must look up his chart for him — something inside me growls. I will not let a 173-year-old dragon tell me what to do. But I do because I’ve been conditioned to be dutiful and polite. Shortly after I end the date. As he walks me to my car he finds a moment to get close and leans in to kiss me and my entire body responds with a fuck no and leaps back. I look him in the eyes and say I am not ready.
Not ready for what? he replies. Not ready to be that close to you. My voice is steely and I am irritated. I offer him a ride home because I feel sorry for him. Goodbye, sir. Never come near me again.
And then…
Sometimes you cross paths with someone and you instantly recognise them as kin. It’s the kismet knowing that you belong to the same constellation of souls.
There exists
on this earth
as in the skies
a constellation
of souls that you
belong to.
When you feel
the presence
of another and
it lights a spark
of recognition
a tiny, mute part
of you has just
remembered that
they are one of
your soul constellation.
I’m at a restaurant/bar to watch some friends play a gig. I arrive early and alone and sit down inside to watch. Sun-bleached long-haired California surfer vibes saunter past me and my heart whispers to my head who is that?
No idea, my head replies, stay casual and aloof. I’ll watch him for you.
A few times, we catch eyes, and there’s a shared acknowledgement, a witnessing of each other.
Later, once back outside with my group of friends he comes and leans over my table and we chat. Shyly, flirting through eyelashes and vulnerable hearts, we share a few playful stories and laugh. He knows half the people I know and a familiar connection is made.
The next day I slide into his DM’s to say hi… we chat and make promises to meet again.
I have a sense that there may be more brother than lover vibes but there’s only one way to find out…
Enjoy today’s journaling practise: