Lesson Four

Open your heart

My last two serious relationships have left me simply...damaged. I followed my heart, moved to Australia and got dumped; left in a strange country alone and heartbroken (ok, it wasn't like that at all, Jess's family graciously let me stay with them after the break-up, I just chose to venture off alone, cause I couldn't figure a better way to deal with my emotional instability). Then a year and a half later, I found the situation reversed and I had to knowingly break the heart of another person I did not love, but cared about about immensely, a friend of eight years, which was oddly enough, even more painful. So, suffice to say, I avoided all forms of intimacy with other women for a long time; I just couldn't take any more potentiality of pain, which I'd begun to associate with romance. It wasn't just romantic love, but love in general. I was afraid of feeling.

Over the last few months, my desires for romance had started creeping back. When travelling, it's easy to ignore and simultaneously indulge on romantic urges, people pass in and out with little chance of real connection. I'd met a few women that had struck my fancy along the way, but the situation was not right or I was just too afraid to make a move with somebody I knew I'd probably never see again. Within my first week on Koh Phangan, I was all but propositioned by three different women, but I've never been one for random sex myself (though I do love a good snog now and then!). I prefer real connections.

Well, with nearly all of my needs being met on the island, I opened myself to the idea of romance once again. The second I chose to do this, I found myself falling for an older Dutch woman who herself was recovering from some past romantic smut. Our intense one-week romance was passionate and lovely.

Wading in the crystal clear water, flat, still like glass. The saturated sand under my feet is so soft with every step. She's floating on her back, supported by my right hand, eyes closed, shining under the sun. I lean down and place a salty kiss on her cheek. Soft skin, green eyes, the warmth of another person. This was the root of all my fears? Love?

I take a large spoonful of the tan paste, a ground mix of oil, onions, garlic, tomatoes, ginger and masala, and wait for it to sizzle, releasing the smell that will always transport me one place, North India. This was not a pure Indian curry though; once the paste melted to a thick bubbling liquid, I pour the thick coconut mix and mix them together into a yellow soup. Next comes the fish sauce. One mistake many make when cooking Thai food is fearing the fish sauce...never fear the fish sauce. I add equal amounts of light soy sauce, being careful not to put too much of each: both are so salty, an excess would overpower the delicate flavor of the crab meat, which I add five minutes later after slow, thickening boil. I crack and egg and the yoke sinks into the curry, I use the side of my spoon to break it open and mix the orange into the rest, letting it all heat to boil three times, stirring in between. Then I remove the heat and let it rest for a few minutes, trying my best not to stare in anticipation. The egg thickens the curry and makes the taste just a bit more rich, but not overbearing. Finally, I take the lime, chop into quarter wedges and squeeze three right in. The fourth, I squeeze more carefully, stopping just when it feels right. I take the spoon and sip the curry, but put one more dab of fish sauce then dip for another taste. Perfect flavor balance is rare, but this dish has it. I always know I've hit that point when my legs shake a little upon hitting my tongue. I jump up and down, exclaim, "woo!" My Burmese coworkers always laugh when I reach this point...they know it's finished. I quickly bring it to the table so I don't find myself grabbing another spoonful and another. I'd forgot how important cooking was to me in the months on the road...Love

A perfect chunk of ripe mango should melt in the mouth. They often all look the same, a light orange color, but you never know if its a good mango until you place in the mouth and press it against the roof and feel it give under the slightest of pressure, not stringy, not powdery, not crunchy, but creamy. By the time the feeling of the mango hits my tongue, the anticipated taste always follows...Love

I walk through the grove of coconut trees and feel the wind blow gently across my face, wet with sweat, an air conditioner that uses no resources. The plethora of birds sing their own individual songs, but they never clash, they build upon each other, not fighting, not together, but not entirely separate. Mixed with the cicadas, crickets, and the hiss of the sea, this is the symphony of the jungle island. This is only one thing...Love

Cara rolls another joint, slowly, the night is still young. We've been laughing for hours, our chests hurt in pleasure. Zach says another statement, both naive and insightful at the same time as Michelle wipes the tears from her eyes just enough to see the notebook as she preserves another memory in the short tome of quotes she'd been collecting for the last month. It's now three AM, but nobody seems to care as we try to have clear vision through the haze. The frogs are laughing with us...Love

It wasn't just being in love with a woman as much as I was in love with life. Every day filled with moments when I felt like I would explode. This is why nobody leaves the bay; we're all in love. For me, it just took a woman to make me not afraid to feel it. And I continue to feel love for every day, now even two months after she boarded the ferry. Thank you.