La Sirena such a Special Girl.

Acabo de llegar a mi casa. 

When more than one hour passes in what feels like ten minutes.

In company of someone who's words could be expressing exactly how you feel and exactly what you belief. Some gentleman who walks me to my door, and gives me a kiss on the mouth but says, 
"You're such a special girl, Kiki. Such a special girl." 

...Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?

It’s strange because I don’t get/understand/can't process this fabulous creature that I’ve fabricated in to my life.

I am, in contrast, well acquinted with those who want to have sex with me, and the other group of male friends who of course WOULD given the chance, but know better than to try for it.

But this..man...I don't understand what is going on.
I just know better than to ask myself. It's just a part of the present. Everyone we have in our life we have invited and we are asking that they stay- for whatever reason that may be. 

I know a veces how people look at me. It is not with a look of

“This angel is so stunningly beautiful and sees life in such a colourful attractive way- I want to get to know her and share something of our respective fulfilling challenging intriguing serving lifes together.”

No, rather it is one of,

“I want to have sex (+/-with a hottie) and this girl would probably let me with her”,

Fooled in to thinking I’m a hottie because they can perhaps see more of my body than other girls. I don’t have anything particularly special (You know, besides the obvious gift of who I AM) but due to my choice of self-expressive wardrobe combined with my comfort in tropical caliente climates it is quite typical to see more of it.

It’s actually wise words spoken by Colleen, my mother, to my 18 year old self.

I was out to dinner with my multicultural gang, who shared cocktails over Mexican while I ate tacos and drank lychee juice as well as the combination of all their fruity garnishes. Gabby was challenging us all to tie cherry stalks in a knot in our mouths, like we had seen in movies. I loving a challenge, succeeded and proceeded to muestrala across the table with a outstretched tongue. Gabby was mistaken to think I was presenting a tongue piercing. This was the first time I had ever come across the thought of my tongue being pierced, within the week which followed- I had done it.

I didn’t tell Colleen but she found out and ambushed me while I was doing the dishes one day.  She was next to the cutlery drawer as I dried teaspoons with a tea towel when she propositions,

 ‘WHAT possessed you to pierce your TONGUE?’

‘I liked it,’ said I.

‘So you’re a cocksucker?’ asks my very own MOTHER.

I deposited the freshly cleaned spoons in the first drawer. I had no words.

‘Men are going to look at you,’ she continues aggressively, ‘and think stimulation for fellatio.’

I was in disbelief. Words completely inappropriate for someone who unconditionally loves you to say. I nudged the drawer shut with my hip and left without excusing myself to bathroom, tea towel still in hand even. I looked at my ‘self’ in the mirror. I stood in front of my reflection and I looked deeply to what looked back. People could look at me howver they want- people, parents/strangers- and it wouldn’t matter to me. It still doesn’t matter to me what people (parents/strangers) think they see when they look at me. 

Anyways, that's the story of my tongue piercing, which I kept for 5 years and which I removed within two weeks of moving to South America. 

The story of this man that I met strolling the streets of the national park is completely unrelated, apart from to say he doesn't look at me and think unsavoury thoughts, which I really have come to expect- from everyone. We were talking about the world and fish in fish bowl. 

I love talking with him, I love listening to him and that should be enough. That is enough- it's everything. 

 I shouldn't sit next to him wondering if he's going to put his hand over my hand, or if he'd even like to. 

I shouldn't hypothosise that maybe he's gay because he doesn't even *want* to touch me. 

I don't need to be approved of like that. I don't need to rationalize it (maybe he's asexual).

He confuses me and puzzles me and challenges me and all I know is that I want him in my life and I don't want to do anything to ruin it. He doesn't even want me so all I need to do is learn how to deal with that. Which you learn be just carrying on. Fake it until you make it. I am a nun. I am being a nun. No matter what I must remain a nun.