We are both up, showered and dressed by 06:15, which is impressive considering the fact we didn't arrive back at our hotel until 01:45, then fucked like rabbits for nearly 2 hours, finally falling into bed exhausted but at least in my case, unsatisfied at almost 04:00!
I have no idea why I feel this way. My body is aching, I'm sore, sweating and covered in the evidence of our mutual and multiple feelings of pleasure, but something is missing!
What?
I lay awake, my body immobilised by the exhaustion our activities caused, but my mind has gone into overdrive, turning the whole event, and also our relationship over and over, trying to find the reason I am unfulfilled after arguably the most vigorous and physically fantastic sex of my life.
Don't I love him? Is that it? Have I fallen out of love? Did I ever love him at all? Are we over before we even really begin? How do I feel about that?
So many questions, no answers, just speculations that I don't want to consider. Is he my missing piece, my light in the darkness, my safe place, my future? Or is he just a distraction from the horrors I've dealt with for the last few years? Am I only using him to validate myself as an attractive, sexy, independent woman?
Harry really has messed up my mind. I don't believe these ridiculous notions that my brain keeps reporting, I KNOW I love Yanni.
But how much, and is it enough?
Does he deserve more? Someone who isn't shattered into a million tiny shards! They say with the right tools, time and patience anything shattered can be pieced back together, but it can never be the same again can it? The cracks will always remain even if invisible, leaving me forever more vulnerable to even the slightest knock. Can I ever be fixed?
We are sitting silently in the lounge area of our hotel suite attempting to eat at least a little of the continental breakfast we have just had delivered by room service.
The rich aroma of the Colombian dark roast coffee assaults my nose, so fragrant I feel that I can already taste it on my tongue.
Yanni pours us each a cup and hands me mine wordlessly. I smile as thanks and place the tiny espresso cup to my lips, sipping the bitter liquid, inhaling the rich chocolate, roasted nut and citrus aromas. It is amazingly good and I knock back the whole shot, blood rushing to my brain after only a few seconds. I pour myself another and tip that down in one too. My stomach is now clenching painfully as my brain registers hunger after the caffeine kickstart!
While spreading some chunky raspberry jam onto a warm and flaky butter croissant, the knife feeling heavy in my hand, I am pondering these questions, arguing with myself internally, negating all points made by my emotionally broken psyche with passionate logic and reason when I hear him speak, although not clearly. I put down the croissant that I knew I wasn't going to eat anyway and take him in.
He looks beautiful as ever, his recently coloured hair falling onto his brows, my heart skipping a beat as he gazes back at me with a look of concern on his face.
That's got to be love right? When just looking at someone momentarily stops your heart?
'Maybe' is the word that immediately springs to mind, doesn't your heart race when you're in the throes of lust too!? Yes it does, but are 'skipping a beat' and 'racing' the same thing?!
I don't believe so.
"Syd?!" he says, causing me to refocus on his face, his look of concern has deepened, his brows low and his mouth turned up at one corner.
"Yes Yanni, sorry, away with the fairies! What did you say?" I smile weakly.
He places his cup back down onto the serving tray and leans over the small coffee table between us, reaching for my hand which is clamped between my knees with its twin. Smiling he repeats his sentence.
"I asked you, three times actually, how you are feeling about today. Are you nervous? Do you want to cancel?! Don't put pressure on yourself. Its ok if you've changed your mind about seeing him, we can leave it today and rearrange for another time if you want to" he reassures me soothingly, running his thumb over lefty whom he has wrangled from between my knees and away from its pair.
I contemplate doing just that for the briefest of moments, then decide that I DO have to do this. I have to face Harry and show him I'm ok. Better than ok in fact! I need to sit opposite him and thank him for showing me what a real man in love looks like, and show him that his evil wickedness hasn't ruined me.
But can I do that? Can I convince Harry of those facts if I'm not even certain of them myself?
Ignoring Yanni's question I counter with one of my own, the one that's been on my mind since we returned to Australia. The question I need answered, but have been terrified to ask.
"What has happened to us Yanni?" I spit, my words combining into one as they fall rapidly from my my lips. I regret asking immediately. This is that worst kind of conundrum. I NEED to know what he thinks, but I'm TERRIFIED of what he could say. Again I consider, is that love? Should I question his words if I truly love him? Shouldn't I trust that he means what he says, and feels how he describes?
He sits silently, continuing to caress my hand with his thumb, the sensation reassuring and oddly emotional, gazing over my shoulder at the view of the city from one of the three floor to ceiling glass walls behind me. My mind is whirring, my stomach churning, there is bile in my throat and it feels as if the air is being vacuumed from the room and my chest tightening while I wait for his response.
"Life happened to us Syd. Just that. Nothing more, nothing less. Life, in all it's messed up, confusing, undeserved and horrifying glory, that's what happened to us. Do I hate Harry? Yes. Yes I do, with enormous passion, but that burning hatred pales into insignificance when I compare it to the enormity of the love I feel for you. Every couple has to work at a relationship, it's natural. While you're discovering each others desires, life goals, future plans and so on there are going to be differences, things you don't agree on, don't both enjoy, argue over, but that is normal. It's good to have differences, it keeps the relationship on its toes. We have had a fair few traumas to navigate together during the time we've known each other, and that sucks balls big time, but you have dealt with so much more alone before we even met. You amaze me every day with your strength and dignity. I want to tear him open from throat to balls with a rusty coat hanger, scoop up the festering pus inside and feed it to him before pulling his teeth out through his arsehole, but you? You seem to be unaffected. On the outside at least. Putting on the show, carrying on as before, but I know that's not true. You are so affected by what he did to you, what they all did to you, that I worry that the real you is lost inside this protective bubble that is growing larger with every internal scream, bad memory and repressed feeling. It can't grow infinitely. Something has to give. When that bubble bursts who is going to fall out? The real you who is in pain but too proud to ask for help, and doesn't want to trouble anyone to talk for fear of looking needy and weak, or the polished and accomplished professional journalist who hides all her pain behind a façade of confidence and positivity? They are both you, but it's ok for it to take time for the roles to find balance, and for you to accept help and love. I feel like you have been pushing me away since that night, in an emotional sense at least. Physically things have not changed, we can still read and play each other's bodies amazingly well, but we seem to have lost our bond, our connection. I don't know quite why, but I want to try and find out. You're too important to me for us to just drift along through life when we can really love it! I want you in my life Syd, and I know you still want me in yours.... As long as we both remember that we can make it through anything. I love you Sydney, I want to make you laugh, smile, feel safe and cherished. I want to share everything with you. I want the whole package. I want to treat you like a Queen Syd, but you have to realise that you are worth it. I know it, now you just need to believe it. Until you do, well, until you do we are stuck at this crossroads."
He's right. Of course he is. I don't feel worthy of him and his love. There must be something wrong with me for all these shit things to happen to me, and those I love. I'm afraid too if I'm being honest, after all, I have made a serious error in judgement about a man before, and ended up married to the devil. Oh God. Now I'm comparing this amazing man with that low life piece of filth I was tortured by for so long! What is wrong with me? Dr Daisy!! Where are you when I need you?
"You're right Yanni. I am the problem in our relationship. How can I hope to embrace a happy future with you if I can't let go of my past with Harry?Thats why I need to see him, to show him that I survived. That I WILL have a life full of wonderful experiences with a man who truly cares for me, that I am not permanently broken. Yes, I'll always be damaged, but that won't stop the right person from appreciating what I am now. I have a few flaws, some visible scars, and some not so visible, but I intend to embrace them, acknowledge and overcome them, and live the life I want, not the one I've had until now. Adversity breeds strength. I want the fairytale too, but we live in the real world, and not in a Disney film. People really get hurt. Of course there are villains out to cause harm with their wickedness, and a happy ending for all just isn't possible, that's the reality of life. Sometimes things don't work out how you want them too, but that can be a blessing. The good things in life are so much more rewarding when you have had to work so hard for them. I am prepared to work hard for you Yanni. To keep you in my life. To share all my highs and hopefully very few lows. I will do whatever it takes to start believing I am worthy of everything I want from life, and washing the stench of Harry from my mind is task one" I finish, feeling the familiar shudder of fear and intimidation I get whenever he is mentioned travel through my body. Utter revulsion and self hatred for allowing myself to be victimised by him for so long causes my blood to rush, making me light headed and nauseous.
"You are NOT the problem in our relationship Syd, Cockwomble is! Let's put him out of our lives like the trash he is, to be totally forgotten, like the worthless writhing sack of maggoty vomit that he is!" Yanni grinds out through tightly gritted teeth, his volume increasing as he becomes more angry, a vein throbbing in his neck and his ears reddening. He is furious.
I smile at him, standing up and smoothing down my skirt then holding my hand out for him to take.
"Right then, let's go and dump that Dickwad!" I laugh, and Yanni does the same as we put on our jackets and shoes to leave for our visit to HMP Belmarsh, and Harry!