"I don't think that being a strong person is about ignoring your emotions and fighting your feelings. Putting on a brave face doesn't mean you're a brave person. That's why everybody in my life knows everything that I'm going through. I can't hide anything from them. People need to realise that being open isn't the same as being weak."

- Taylor Swift

Thursday, April 12, 2012

Half of My Heart : Day 3

Daybreak, Base Camp

There was a halo around the moon last night, and the babies and I chased bird tracks around the dunes as the sun set.

I must say that I am getting very tired of all the teasing I get over a certain person. First and foremost it is not fair to him, to hear untrue rumours of abuse from me to him, or unfair rumours that I have changed my mind or that I have been playing sly all along. I have been nothing less than honest and kind, and the rest of you ought to do the same.

But then there is me. Every time somebody says that I love someone reminds me that I am in love, I was in love, that I have loved someone for what seems like eternity and I have had to cut half of my heart away to make everyone happy. It is not fair to consider my cool indifference to be remotely like what I have felt or cried over. Do you not think that it is hard enough to forever wait in the wings and watch other girls take the stage? Must I be mocked for my incompetency as well?

My daer high school chums will not see me fall in love again. It is not worth half the pain, half the mockery. One day I will find someone fearless, and I'll wonder why I wasted my time with absentee friends and heartbreakers and cameo lovers. I feel like a girl like me has to leave it alone for a little while whilst I still believe in princesses and pirate ships.

En route to some place or other

After breakfast my sister and I raced around the plateaus singing One Direction. As you do.

What makes you beautiful?

When I was younger I was a veritable peacock. Every day I would paint myself bright colours, and it stopped becoming an experiment or a form of expression and became and obsession. It got to the point when I couldn't even walk to the shops without something on my face. It didn't matter whether I looked better or worse with or without it; that wasn't the point, not anymore. To leave the house without makeup was as terrifying as walking out the door naked.

Last year I stopped wearing makeup to school It was liberating. I was finally comfortable in my own skin. I was over one boy and only vaguely inclined towards another. I trusted in things I probably shouldn't have trusted in, but I was happy. God knows, last year was probably the best year of my life so far.

Now I wear makeup as a kind of armour. I don't want people to know that I'm insecure enough to paint my face with a rainbow. Makeup has become a camoflage; something more subtle. I don't want people to see the shadows or red rims around my eyes, and it's only when I've covered the tear tracks that I can face another day pretending to be okay. I'm very tired of the two-faced backstabbing of girls, but boys only want to see me as a cynical flirt, enchanting and enigmatic and infallible; they don't want to know or care what keeps me up at night.

Obviously when I camp I am bare faced - but I know some girls in the club who wouldn't be able to say that. It is hard to feel pretty when all you've had for a bath is a pan of hot water and a washcloth, and your hair is increasingly messy braids in a doomed attempt to stay clean, but at least I don't have to smile a blank, bland, empty smile here. The wilderness doesn't care whether you laugh or cry.


We're at the marshmallow beach again and I went wading in the cool sparkling shallows. The salt water stings the cuts on the bottom of my feet and I scrub my legs with handfuls of sand. After that I loll around in the back seat reading The Time Traveller's Wife.

It's grossly unfair. Clare met Henry when she was just six years old. I would have loved to meet my soulmate at six. I would have loved to know that no matter what, there was someone fearless there for me, waiting. I am ten years older and there is no one I know that I am willing to spend the rest of forever with, nobody I know who is willing to spend the rest of forever with me.

 En route to Bremer Bay

And so we're leaving Peppermint Beach.

Too early. I'm not ready. I counted on one more night.

I'm not ready to leave behind the dunes and the crumbly plateaus and the bewitching moonlight. I should have liked one more night to sort things out, think things over, clear my mind. I should have liked one more night dancing with the babies in the moonlight.

I do not know where I lay my head tonight. On a brighter note, I am optimistic that I may have the chance to wash my hair tonight. I am a city girl after all.


We came back to Perth a little early. We've been driving all night, but I'm wide awake. Did you miss me?

Sometimes you have to talk about things that are hard. Sometimes it is not easy being a friend, not easy being in love. I have left half of my heart in Bremer Bay, but that's okay. We are all better off without it.

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