Well, my time here has come to an end. Monday The Fiancé and I will be leaving for Europe, officially ending my amazing, amazing time in the United States... officially ending adventure and fun and extravaganza in my life.

I won't go too much into detail, for it hurts me too much (- and I've already done it over at my "real" blog anyways). Thank you for the encouraging emails... and I am logging off for a while, not knowing how fast I will have access to the internet again, or will feel inspired to write about anything bisexuality related. The readjustment phase will be difficult enough even without exploring the deeper layers of my being. Those of you with the link to my "real" blog know where to go.

So long...

Knowing that I would get to see Jo last night together with The Fiancé and The Hostess, I sat down and prepared a letter for her before we left, containing pretty much everything I wanted to tell her over coffee. I was intent on slipping it to her when we hugged goodbye, if I wouldn't get a chance to speak with her privately before that.

So we got to The Hostess' house, where both of them were already waiting, watching a movie. She was sitting on the couch, wearing a corset-looking beautiful shirt and jeans, and I realized that this was the first time that I actually saw her in regular clothes, as opposed to a Halloween costume. Her black hair had grown out way over her shoulders, but her captivating all-encompassing smile was still the same, and so was the sparkle in her sapphire eyes when she got up to greet both of us with a hug.

When she embraced me I couldn't help but close my eyes, trying not to suck in my breath. I wished for time to stop, for the moment to last just a little bit longer. There she was... after 9 months of not seeing her and me lusting after her and longing for her... hugging me warmly and friendly, and all I could hope for was that she wouldn't feel the crazy beat of my heart against her chest. So beautiful. She took my breath away just like she did when I first met her.

I never got to speak privately with her. And I never slipped her the letter, either.

And I feel it is better this way, I feel like I have done the right thing. I didn't get to do what I so desperately wanted to do, wanted to let her know... but I am still feeling good, I am still feeling like I got the closure I wanted, and I am still proud of myself for having taken the step of contacting her in the first place.

I got to see her, I got to realize that my mind has erected a pedestal for her that was not based on reality, and I got the chance to let the thought of her go in my own mind. Don't get me wrong... everything about her is still stunning and beautiful and utterly captivating... but at the same time I do not feel like I am walking around a Godess anymore, who needs to be worshipped and adored. That was all a creation of my mind, and I was glad that I will be able to leave this country without having an icon figure in my head who nobody will ever be able to live up to, but a normal, regular stunningly beautiful girl who is no more divine than you or me.

The reason why I decided not to let her know?

A small comment dropped by her in the car, about this year's Erotica LA, where she apparently got to work at. She said: "There was nothing out of the ordinary at the Erotica, nothing crazy... but this year they had a whole gay section, and you know... that's kind of where I draw the line."

She draws the line with gay people.

I would lie if I said that her comment didn't feel like a small stab with an ice pickle, and that I am not disappointed. She made a very different impression on me before, and even yesterday I got very confusing signals from her. I thought she was this really open-minded crazy girl who's probably had more than her share of all kinds of experiences, but I guess that was also part of the foundation of the pedestal I erected for her.

But that was also the moment when I decided to let it go. Watching her through the rear-view mirror I finally had to smile to myself, came to terms with myself. I still believe that people who have influenced another human being so profoundly has she has with me, people who have such an impact on another person's life whether they know that they did or not, deserve to know about it. Jo has made a huge impact in my life, and in a very positive way that I thought she should be aware of it. We tend to always tell people the bad stuff that they do, tend to rub it into their faces when they mess up, but we rarely ever bother to compliment them, or to tell them about the good things they did. I wanted her to know what a good thing she did for me, and that I will be forever thankful for that, and that I will forever hold her in highest regards in my memories for it... I believed she should know that she has made a big difference in somebody's life, even if that somebody is a total stranger to her.

But at the same time I realized that such knowlegde might not be the blessing it is intended to be, to the person who receives it, especially if the topic is something that she is not comfortable with. I didn't want to burden her with something that might make her feel weird or awkward, so I just took in her view through the rear-view mirror, and let her go, once and for all.

She'll always be in my heart in this special little way, and as long as I know what she did and will never forget about it, that's good enough for me. She doesn't have to know. I know it, and I will carry this knowledge with me in my heart until the day I die, and that's how we shall remain forever.

...The Hostess calls The Fiancé. You see, Jo was scheduled to hang out with The Hostess tonight, which is why she asked me if it was okay to meet during the day for coffee.

Now The Hostess asked The Fiancé if we wanted to hang out later tonight with them both.

*shakes head*

Not at all what I had in mind or what would make me comfortable, but at least I would get my chance to ask her for her email address. Or to slip her the link to this here blog. If I do the latter, I will for sure have to edit some posts out, especially the recent ones... and then probably lay this blog to rest.

I don't think I'll be going anywhere today. She called me back in the very early afternoon, and we agreed for her to call me back an hour later and then to see where we would take it from there. She agreed to the café I suggested... but hasn't called me back ever since.

And I cancelled our afternoon/evening of Magic the Gathering with The Ex a couple of hours ago, thinking I would be busy.

I am disappointed, but for some reason not too bummed out. After she called me I got so nervous at the thought of what I had put myself into, and what would I have to tell her, that I got physically ill, like there was a leaden medicine ball lodged in my stomach.

If she calls back now, I will just tell her that I got swamped with more work (which isn't even a lie), and ask her for her email address. Telling her while not having to look at her will be much easier, and then she won't be embarrassed, and actually has the choice not to ever contact me again and saves both of us the awkwardness of all of this.

*shrugs*

Didn't really *feel it* tonight at the club. Was it me, was it the crowd, was it the small squabble I had with The Fiancé while waiting in line to get in for an hour... but after about 20 minutes of listlessy dancing I asked him to leave, and that's what we did.

Or maybe it was my anxiousness to get back to the car to see if Jo had called me back, after I bravely left her a message on her cell phone right after I left the house...

...but of course she hadn't. :(

I probably freaked her out by slipping and saying "I have to tell you something" when I called her yesterday... :(

Right now would be my time to call her back and confirm tomorrow's coffee appointment. I have figured I would take her to a nice café in Hollywood, one that The Fiancé took me to very early in our relationship while he was ditching work for me, and one that we later played at serveral times with the band. It's small-ish, it's comfy, and it's sort of boheme. And it sells Mexican Hot Chocolate, which is simply to die for.

Googled the exact address, and everything.

What separates me from a blissful (no matter the outcome - I get to see her!) tomorrow is a mere phone call. And after all, she said to me "Call me Thursday night..."

Well let me tell you something. My *brilliant* idea looks very stupid to me now, I wonder which devil has ridden me to call her in the first place, and my hands feel like lead - at any rate too heavy to even reach for my phone.

Heavens help me... I have thought this all through, and I cannot even fathom how to start the conversation that will lead to my telling her what she did for me, and how I feel about her - after I got through all the small talk with clammy hands and a wildly beating heart. I don't know how to do it. At least not without looking like a total creep, and I don't want to scare her away. I cannot even imagine sitting in that café, waiting for her. Staring at the door without meaning to, looking for her. I cannot imagine saying hi to her without my voice croaking and me saying stupid stuff. I cannot imagine tomorrow at all, I don't know how I will get through it.

Okay, let me rephrase that: I can imagine many things about tomorrow, and they all involve her holding my hands and kissing me and taking me home to her place... but really, I am talking about realistic stuff here. The thought of her freaking out, of her storming out on me, or worst: of her laughing at me scares the bejeezus out of me...

For right now though, I will be on my way to pick up The Fiancé from work, and then to West Hollywood... possibly for the last time while we are here.

And... I am going commando...

That's me.

Especially if you've been reading this blog for a while, or know what inspired this.

I had this thought, since I am leaving this country, this continent, and basically have nothing to lose, I would like for Jo to know what she did for me, what she inspired. I would like to be able to tell her, as some sort of closure I feel I need before I leave this country. I would like to thank her for what she caused me to do with my life, because now I feel much more at ease with myself, much more myself than I ever did before. Whole. Because I now have what it takes to do what I need to do in order to fulfill every part of me, every side of me. And I like to think of Jo as the one who flipped that switch in my brain, and despite the fact that I don't know the least thing about her and who she is, and have talked with her no more than 2 times, I will hold her in highest regards for this for the rest of my life.

So since I do not have her email address (and I am much better with the written word than with the spoken), I had to get over myself and get in contact with her the only way I can: call her.

Now you put yourself in her shoes... getting a phone call out of nowhere, after 9 months of absolutely no contact at all, from a person you've spoken with only twice in your life on rather superficial occasions, being asked out for coffee.

Boy, was my heart beating. Was I sweating. My palms so wet I could barely hold on to my cell phone. The phone was ringing on the other end. I was praying for the answering machine. And finally... the answering machine. Relief. I started to babble... introduce myself, see if she still remembers me... explaining my move to Europe and how I wanna meet some people once more before I leave... and while I was in the middle of my repeatedly rehearsed sentence of asking her out for coffee, all of a sudden I hear a click on the other end, and a sleepy voice saying "Who is this?"

"Ummm... this is ****, you know... your friend's friend's girlfriend? We met at Halloween..."
"OH! Yes! Hi! I was like... who in the hell is this... I heard the accent and some talk about going to Europe and I knew the voice but I didn't know who it was... so I had to pick up!"

That's where the conscious part of me fainted and my brain started to operate on emergency power.

Her voice! Her sweet cheerful voice... I thought I would have things under control, I was over my crazy infatuation, but the second I heard her speak, it was over. I melted to a puddle on the floor, and my ability to form cohererent sentences was reduced dramatically. My speech sped up significantly, and I started to stumble over my own words. Gee, make yourself look like an idiot in an already weird and totally out of the blue phone call, why dontcha.

I managed to get through some small talk without awkward breaks, and I managed to ask her out for coffee, and she said... she said... "Yes, absolutely, I would love to see you before you leave!"

We agreed on Friday afternoon, and she gave me her cell phone number.

I am exhilarated, and I am terrified. I will get to see this woman again, once more in my life, and I will have my chance at telling her all these things I have been pathetically and secretly blogging anonymously about on here. I will get my chance to sit her down, look into her sapphire blue eyes, and tell her thank you for flipping my switch and giving me the courage to pursue who I really am.

WHAT?????????

Do you really think I will have the guts to tell her that from the second I saw her I had a crush on her, and that ever since then I have come to terms with my latent bisexuality and pursued it and came partly out of the closet and it's all because of her????

Shite, if she'd call the cops on me to take me away I wouldn't be surprised.

How do I tell a beautiful woman like that something so huge like this, and not lose my face? How do I tell a beautiful woman like that who hasn't had any contact with me for 9 months that I have a huge crush on her despite not knowing anything about her? How do I tell a beautiful woman like that who I don't even know of if she likes women or what her stand on bi-/homosexuality is that she opened that door to myself and made me walk through it without ever knowing that she did? How do I tell her that I will forever think of her as my muse to my own true self?

How?

I am scared that I won't find it within me to step up to her and say any or all of this. I am scared that after I got myself to contact her after all this time, I will let her slip away without taking my chance of closure that I need for myself, with all these emotions and words bottled up inside of me destined to be there forever from now on.

I have nothing to lose, even if she laughs at me, or storms out on me, at least I will know that I have done something about it, that I had the courage to at least try instead of leaving this country with my tail between my legs and wondering forever what if. I will be at peace with myself, and that's what I crave most right now.

Of course there are these fantasies of me stumbling around, fumbling for words, and her suddenly putting her hands on mine and quieting me with a sudden soft kiss... but this is stuff that happens only in Hollywood, and I am not delusioning myself on what's going to happen. I better brace myself for a negative reaction at best. But at least I will get one more chance to be in the same room with her, see what she sees, breathe the air she breathes, lose myself in her sapphire eyes and her bright smile and laughter... if only for a little bit.

I wonder if there will ever be another woman like her in my life, someone to hold me so completely in her spell, someone to captivate me so totally with a gaze, a small graceful motion. Someone to drown out everything around me the way she does with the sound of her voice, someone to hold me at the tip of her finger, ready for whatever she desires, if only she would say a word.

If only she would say a word...

...you know you took things too far when the first thing you notice the next morning aside from your own huge grin are several large purplish-black bruises all over your back and painfully swollen wrists.

We really need to rethink this Klingon approach to sexual gratification, especially considering that if any of my family members would observe repeated multiple "unexplained" bruising on my body, I doubt The Fiancé will leave a very good impression with any of them, short of being thrown into jail for domestic violence... LOL.

So much stress... so little time. It is currently hard enough for me to maintain one blog, not even mentioning two. But I am pleased to say that we are perfectly on schedule, and have taken care of approximately 80% of everything we need to take care of before our big cross-planet move.

In comparison selling the car, getting rid of our furniture, applying for The Fiancé's graduation and getting the cats' health certificate seems like a joyride of utter simplicity.

Ok, well maybe not the selling the car part.

Anyway. August 1 is the day.

I am both dreading it, and looking forward to it, equally strong. This doesn't help my state of mind much, but I am trying hard to be positive, especially for The Fiancé. At least I know what I am getting into, and whether I like it or not (which I don't), and I will have to make it as positive and smooth as possible for the one who has not the slightest idea and plunges into this adventure head first and without asking questions.

Of course, co-existing with our roomates currently makes it easier for me to depart. Ever since our revelation of leaving, living here has turned into some sort of "how can I dodge the people I am living with most efficiently" maneuver, despite all reassurances of "everything being ok". I have been denied one last show with my ex-band, which hurts me so deeply, and pisses off The Fiancé, and in turn greetings and saying goodbye have turned into mere grunts of acknowledgement, if even that. I am glad when they are out, and I am pretty certain they are glad to leave. I really cannot wait to close the door of this house for good, and saying good-bye to this roommate situation. I am sick an tired of living with roommates, and if I have learned one thing in my three-something years here it is that living together kills otherwise perfectly fine friendships.

As far as I am concerned, I am at the point where I truly couldn't care less about any of them, and even the band, for that matter. They played a show yesterday... the one that I hoped could have been my farewell show... with a drummer that serves as my interim replacement on the bass. The Fiancé and I showed blatant disinterest in this, and just shrugged off a question of "if we can make it to the show tonight" indecisively, and then spent the evening watching movies with one of my friends at the house. What really amused me was Roomie#E's reaction to that. All upset, it seemed. Excuse me?

Anyways. After having combined my online-searching talents with my parents' calling powers, we have managed to get us an apartment in Vienna, that will be ready to be moved in the day we arrive there. Apparently the cats pose no problem, and there is no minimum contract to be signed, and the place is furnished, and the landlady seems nice. I am not 100% comfy with my parents having chosen my future place to stay, but at the same time I am very relieved that we won't have to camp out at my parents's place upon our arrival. And who knows, maybe it really is as nice as my mom has been telling me. :)

15 days and counting...

Yes, it's been a while, but I am still around. What happened? Too much to really grasp every detail in one entry, but things can basically be summed up like this:

We found and adopted an 8 week old baby cat 2 weeks ago, trying to make my adult cat get along with him now, and thinking I am going to succeed. My sister (finally) broke up with Roomie#E, therefore effectively ending their long-distance relationship, and restoring peace and order in my world and the way I (selfishly) want it to be. And last but certainly not least, The Fiancé and I have decided to leave the United States and move back to my home country together, very contrary to our plans of sticking around at least another year and see if the band is going somewhere or not.

Why? Homesickness, basically. And the feeling of wasting my time, since I graduated from college. And my visa is running out. And we go to bed hungry almost on a daily basis because we can barely make ends meet, and under such pressing monetary situations, food becomes secondary. Also, a sense of urgency that I can't quite explain. Something tells me it's time to move on.

Plus, I just learned that my favorite cousin and his wife are expecting their first baby in December... a very good reason to look forward to home, much as I despise the thought of living in that country again.

When? We're shooting for the end of July. We do not have a definite date set yet, and lots of things still need to be taken care of before our departure, but basically I do not wish to pay another month's worth of rent, and this weird sense of urgency is driving me on, making me try to make this transitional and very painful time as short as possible.

Oh, and Love has never called me, after that night in West Hollywood, btw. I think I owe you an update on that, but I am really not upset over this. I wasn't expecting her to call, and I had a grand time either way. Too bad that tomorrow a (very last) band meeting is scheduled... otherwise I would be going to that place again and enjoy it for as long as I still can.

Short and sweet... for now. I have been unreasonably tired and fatigued lately, I think I owe it to my body to lay it to rest before midnight for a change, even though I am having a hard time falling asleep when The Fiancé isn't there. He's out for a couple of beers with Roomie#E... I hope he's having fun, it'll be one of the last time he's going to be able to do that.

I really admire him for so readily giving up on his entire life as he knows it the way he does... trading it in for a country he has never been to, doesn't know the mentality/culture of, and doesn't speak its language...