Mexico
Thursday
I exit the airplane and go
through a hot, sweaty, and slow customs line at the airport in Cancun. All I
can think about is that my love is on the other side of the gate waiting for
me, probably for hours. That is Esteban’s style; he would do anything for his
woman and he would never be late.
Finally I get through all of
prerequisites of entering another country and go outside with my two large pink
suitcases and a stuffed backpack to find my Costa Rican boyfriend whom I
haven’t seen in 18 months, waiting for me with a smiling face. We hug, but do
not kiss. I found that odd, but I’m rolling with the energy that is present
between us after so much time apart. The last time we said good-bye to each
other was in Costa Rica in September of 2011, with tears in our eyes and a bond
in our hearts.
He makes fun of me as to why
I have so many “packets” as he told me only to bring one. Somehow packing I
knew I didn‘t need all of these clothes, but I haven’t learned how to make
decisions on what not to bring yet when I’m traveling, so I take everything
with me.
We wait outside of the Cancun
airport together and decide whether or not to head to the festival, which is
another three hours of travel and we don’t have a room to stay in once we
arrive there. So we opt to take a bus into Cancun proper and stay in a hotel
there. We check into a mid grade hotel, which is scarcely dressed with shitty
walls, shitty beds and barely any hot water for a shower. Last time we met up
in Costa Rica we had uncontrollable chemistry for each other, and almost
devoured each other once we were alone. The chemistry seemed to have left us,
and we tried to have sex anyways, perhaps out of obligation for one another. It
felt dry and empty. We are grinding
against each other and the only heat we feel from one another is from the
friction. He doesn’t come, as he holds in his orgasmic energy with me for as
long as possible. We burst through some energy with one another, as we feel
relaxed and blissful, but somehow I am not feeling the love from the heart
between us. I’m worried about what this means for us, if our love is over, if I
need to separate from him and travel alone. WE both have planes that leave from
Cancun on January 5th, so that gives us 17 more days together
feeling this way? I don’t know what to do but to pray for a solution between
us.
Saturday
Esteban sets up the tent and
makes a nice spot for me to sleep. He always treats me well despite what is
going on around us.
We go out and dance at the big
festival that was going on in Chichen Itza for the “World’s End”, also called
Synthesis on Saturday night together, and ingest some magic chocolates from my
friend. They hit us strong and deep and act as a truth serum between us. After
an hour or two, I become distant, knowing that I can no longer make love to
this man and maybe I have to depart Mexico early because I don’t think I can
travel with him when my heart is no longer invested in him. He pulls me aside,
“Can I talk to you?”
“Yes”, I reply, feeling as
though I am in trouble now.
He tells me how he is
feeling, that he can sense my distance, that I am cold towards him, that he
feels stupid sometimes when he speaks with me because our conversations are
boring because of the language barriers. We can’t always express complex ideas,
and are somewhat limited in what we say to one another. But one thing I’ve
always appreciated about our connection is what he says without words. He shows
his love and devotion through his endless service to his Queen. He would do
anything to please me, even disappear from my existence if that’s what pleases
me.
We talk for a long time and
he gets a chance to express his feelings. He thinks there is something he can
“do” to repair my feelings for him. But a feeling is a feeling and you have it
because you have it, it cannot be manufactured I explain to him. I tell him I’m
not in love with him anymore, that the chemistry is gone, that my heart is
confused (see previous stories) and that I am still processing a break-up. In
this moment I am breaking his heart and he doesn’t understand where my words
are coming from, or how to repair our bond. For now it is broken. We separate
ways for the rest of the night, I leave him shivering in the cold with my blanket,
stunned and confused and high.
I go on with my night,
feeling nothing, and puzzled why I can’t feel when my last partnership made me
feel so much. This numbness does not make sense to me.
Esteban finds me in the party
at sunrise and we take a taxi back to our hotel. Instead of pushing me away, he
pulls me closer to his heart. He finds me a nice bed instead of making me camp
on the ground with him. He tucks me into a massage table, makes my bed for me,
tucks me in and brings me water and hot tea. This is the man I fell in love
with; so attentive, so giving, so loving. I fall asleep warm and content,
peaceful and with a chord attached to his heart. He won me over with his
endless service and maybe this is how he is going to win me back.
I party all the next night
without him, exploring my options, playing the field. I meet another tall,
built man by the name of Lincoln who takes me under his wing for the evening.
At first glance I am unimpressed by his advances, as he is silly and awkward at
first. But genuine presence goes a long way with me and we play throughout the
night, eventually cuddling up together in the peaceful campgrounds of the
Synthesis festival, on the Earth in his tiny tent barely large enough to fit
his body, and we sink into the rhythms of the earth together. I express to him
that I don’t want to be sexual, as my body was in a deep meditation and was
taking so much pleasure in complete stillness. Then our Shakti began to merge
as he put his hand on my heart and pushed his energy into me. We began a
beautiful spiral dance….this is how to open me; first energetically, then I am
more bound to open with you physically.
Hours pass by in our snuggle,
and I begin to like this new bond. Eventually we make our way back into town
together, and I find Esteban sitting peacefully in front of the hotel in a
white tea shirt, which accentuates his gorgeous dark skin and mysterious eyes,
and he’s listening to his headphones. His eyes surrender to mine, they are
slightly sad and empty, and I try to cheer him up with my love. I sit on top of
him and I don’t move until we have resolution. He tells me that in order to
make me happy that he should leave tomorrow. He would sacrifice anything for my
happiness, and the thought of him leaving so soon, of our partnership ending
now, maybe forever, put tears in my eyes. Perhaps he understood my woes. After
a few moments of crying and hugging, we walk back to our tent. Each step we
take I start to cry more, my emotions intensify, and I yearn for his heart to
open mine. Perhaps this is when I finally broke back open to him. He climbs in
the tent, and his eyes invite me inside, and I dive in on top of him. We cannot
hold each other close enough, rolling around in our tears, our love, our
passion. Something happens, and our emotion overcomes us and our bodies begin
to intertwine and fill with love again. He kisses me, with passion this time,
with full presence, like it really mattered, and his cock began to fill with
blood and press against my flesh. His mouth finds my tender and yearning
nipples and bites and licks them like a fresh strawberry. I want him. And he
wants me, but our bodies are so dirty from partying all night. I want him in
the shower, like how we used to do in Costa Rica together. We always had the
most passionate sex in the shower together. I tell him to come wash my sinful
skin with his heavenly hands, like he did on the first day we met, after our
first swim in the ocean together. He follows me to the camp showers, we close
the door, and he just watches me for a while with his throbbing cock. I invite
him in closer and he presses firmly into me. After playing around at the
thought of entering me, he charges through, and fills me with his invisible
nectar. The feeling is unexplainable. It’s difficult to remember how certain
lovers feel. And him and I have a certain fire, a certain burning, yet dripping
flame for one another when we make love. He gives is to me long and hard, deep
and strong, I’m silently screaming, my face pushed against the tile of the
shower, for I cannot let out a real scream for the entire camping area to hear.
He brings himself to the edge several times, and holds it in every time, sealing his nectar for the
next round of lovemaking.
Our love has been restored,
he was able to find that sweet tender place in his heart where his desire is to
endlessly serve me. This sweetness and self-sacrifice warmed me so that I
opened back into him, and let his throbbing heat penetrate me to the core of my
desire. For now we are lovers, back in paradise, in the warm winds of Mexico!
