Well life delivers interesting twists and turns that insist we either fly with it or die with it. 2 weeks ago I was jumping on a plane with what felt like enough excitement in me to rivel a sugar fuelled kids birthday party. I was off to meet the love of my life. Trite words but incredibly true because I had never felt this way about anyone. I had never felt so free and alive and so utterly connected in love. I walked in bliss.
I was 26 hours and 4 days away from the Man. I was going to LA for a stop over and then onto NZ to see him. We were old friends from school and had got back in touch via Facebook some 7 months before. He had emigrated to NZ for a better lifestyle. He called me a fair few times and as the months progressed we started to fall for each other. The falling turned into tumbling and my friends began to even joke about buying hats. Our parents were even talking to each other. How certain is certainty I wonder.
2 days in NZ and the reality is that whilst my feelings grew until I was just frankly glowing with joy his dissipated entirely. I was the breath on the outside of the glass wall of his heart drawing shapes of desperation in the condensation. Having wangled the truth out of him I immediately stuffed everything into a suitcase, moving robot like in shock and headed to the nearest hostel. I now have 2 options
1. hope that now I have taken a leap of faith life will step up to catch me
2. Jump on the next plan out of here and put the credit card into ICU when I get back (not a good plan).
I favour the first option. The taxi driver that took me to the hostel had an Olympic Medal in talking and another in helping people. He is a bit of an entrepreneur as he owns that taxi company and a few other businesses to boot too. He took me for coffee and drove me around town for free before giving me his number to call if I need help. That was just one of many people that helped me out yesterday and I was utterly astounded and humbled by the kindness of strangers.
My friend Ollie (who I actually met because I booked my NZ ticket with him) told me of the Twitter experiment where a guy is trying to get to NZ using only Twitter followers. Well I don't want to get to NZ. I am here already. I want to get home. And I want to restore my faith in people on route. And to get back up after being knocked big time down. I came 12000 miles for love and would have gone further such was the strength of my feeling. And then I lost it. I have no bad feelings about the fact the Man's feelings changed as everyone is entitled to their feelings. What I do need now is a way forward. And I am hoping that is where all you guys come in.
I want ideas for things to do, people I can connect with over here, ways I can barter because the funds are low and just anything else you can think of that will get me home with a smile on my face.
I will post my adventures on this blog and credit those that suggest people, things to do etc.
Oh and before I go the reason why this journey is called Broken Stones is after an anthem of mine from my twenties - Paul Weller's Broken Stones. I spent most of my twenties chronically sick and believe there is a home for all of us especially if you live gratefully and greatfully with heart and mind open. Mostly I have learned that Home exists in our hearts and we carry it with us. Wherever we go, there we are. Believe in magic, live in magic.
It's just it feels like have just lost my sodding map to my Home. And I so want to believe again.
Send me your directions guys. All the fun to be had on the 12000 miles between London and Auckland
For your help and love in advance, thank you