… so long and thanks for all the fish.

It was just like the feeling you get when you know it’s going to rain even though it’s still hot outside and there is a perfect swell on the waves. It was the same feeling that I got one fine summer’s morning as I sat sipping my coffee talking to Nonna. Or perhaps it was a culmination of happenings that had built up into something like Lego blocks just like last year when I pretty much followed the same behaviour pattern and reaped similar consequences. The only difference was that this time around I wasn’t madly in love with the married private banker on holiday with his newly wed bride who was part of my party.

I think the sudden uneasiness I felt had something to do with a saying I’d heard many years before in Italy: ‘A house guest is like fish – only good for 3days.’ In my case it was a little more than 4days during which I was just too bone arse lazy to keep driving home at the pre-dawn hours of 5am. In my defence I was mostly drunk most of the time and after the habitual fast food take-outs, sickeningly sugary soft-drinks and a pint or two of cold water you just want to crawl out of your cloths and into a soft warm bed and sleep away the frustrations of a night filled with strangers and little substance.

Perhaps it was because I had, in the past 2weeks become a little too emotionally slutty and revealed more than I had intentionally intended particularly to people that I hardly knew. Sure my best mate was there and his family who are pretty used to the gays but still even fag-hags and their fag-stags are not usually in my circle of trust. Sure after your 6th or 9th Jaeger-bomb it was fun to play the guessing game of ‘who’s straight and who’s not’ if for no other reason than it narrowed the odds of getting laid that night. But it was the next morning that I really felt it as we lay around the pool sharing intimate secrets from our casual affairs.

As the nameless faces blurred into a gyrating mass on the dance floor nothing had changed in the 6mnths of self-imposed exile into the Shires. No that isn’t true I had changed. I may not have a million bucks in the bank anymore but I certainly looked it. As I made my way through the crowds to sit in the dark corners behind the velvet rope some of the dirty deeds done dirt cheep came back to me. And as I looked out and managed to pick-out some of these deeds on the dance floor looking more muscled than ever before I realised that I was falling into bad habits again.

When you’re young your whole life is about the pursuit of fun. Staying out late with your friends after meeting that tall dark and handsome stranger and when you’re done dragging your ass home at dawn. Then you grow up and learn to be cautious. After all you could break a bone or a heart. You look before you leap and sometimes you don’t leap at all because there is not always someone there to catch you. And in life there is no safety net. As I sat watching the sun set on New Years’ Eve I had to ask: when did it stop fun and start being scary?

From the first night we reluctantly travelled to our capital city to hang out with the Sons of Troy to walking home for the last time on the streets paved with gold in downtown Sandton, time wasn’t on our side. From certain loose women who prowl looking for no strings sex to uncertain Mephistopheles who look for sex as an excuse not face their own nature alcohol fuelled the frenzy that drove us through the night. Someone once said you have to ‘face your fear and do it anyway’ which is exactly what I did. I faced the fear of looking by a failure by dressing up and going out and getting off with the hottest guy in the club.

Walking up to the hottest thing there and showing no fear is what my life is now about: thinking big and kicking ass. I wish I could take credit for that philosophy but really it was my Dad’s holiday gift that has somehow clicked my thinking into what has happened these past few months. I want to make things mean something again and find the kind of passion that used to drive me, albeit in my bespoke bubble, every morning. I know that you shouldn’t put off today for tomorrow but this time around I’m putting off tomorrow for today. Life is scary but failure is even more so.

 

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