Bad Girls Don't Cry

Chapter 11

Traveling alone was an incredible experience. I went anywhere I wanted whenever I wanted without asking permission or compromising with anyone. It was quite liberating to not rely on anyone else. Thing is, it also played into my fantasies, and sometimes I submerged myself into The Game and relished in small fears. Being alone in a foreign land made even the most mundane of things, like sleeping, eating, relaxing in a coffee shop or playing a game of pool at a bar much more intense. 'Who's sleeping next to me? Is someone waiting outside? Who's watching me order, or eat, read and write, who's wondering what I'm writing or thinking? Who's thinking about me? Who wants to come talk to me or is thinking about doing naughty things to me?' In the fantasies, just the possibilities were exciting and got my blood racing. When traveling alone, I was always searching for others who were traveling alone. I felt a type of connection to them, almost like we understood the desire or need for that type of freedom, and it felt like there were few constraints.

Over those first 3 months of wandering, my lustful darkness grew. The cravings were like a massive hunger rising from deep inside me. The longer I traveled, the more I wanted to feel the intensity of The Game again. At first though, I was so fearful of venturing out there to look for a man who could give me what I wanted in a safe environment. I kept getting flashes of real terror, the panic, having to sleep on my friends' couches for weeks at a time because I was too scared to sleep in my own bed alone... but then, thoughts of being woken up in the middle of the night by a man I trusted, held firmly with an arm around my throat from behind while strong hands groped me, flooded my head and I felt that familiar longing to become someone's plaything once again. Then, desire replaced my fear. I felt a renewed sense of internal validation. I deserved someone who would actually care about me and give me what I craved. Someone good.

I continued on my journey of self-reflection, trying to better understand the types of men I had previously been chasing to live out my fantasies. I needed to understand why they were the wrong types of men for me. The seriously terrifying encounters I had had were with men who were actually dangerous, not just acting the part. I had been terrified into believing I couldn't live in my dark world anymore. But there I was, after those torturous experiences, and I knew I had to do things differently. I learned to recognize my awful errors in judgment, having previously searched for dangerous men who, in the end, couldn't control themselves. I knew that the next time I would play The Game I would have to do things very differently. I just wasn't sure where to begin. Do I approach them? Do I allow them to approach me? Do I simply wait and drown in my desires? Do I continue on my journey with my eyes and ears open and hope someone amazing miraculously comes into my life?

I again felt isolated in my dark thoughts and I decided I would just take it one day at a time. It had been nearly 5 years since experiencing the danger I so craved. 5 years is a long time; the day to day, daydreaming of a life I didn't know I would ever experience again, was exhausting without the release I needed. I became complacent and habituated to the routines of everyday life all the while being lost within the torturous reminders that I was alone in my dark world and I was completely fed up of searching for something I felt didn't exist. I had stopped searching for a good man to take me over. I didn't enjoy the feeling of searching; it was truly exhausting. I craved companionship in the way I wanted it and I felt lonelier than ever, longing for something that I thought was impossible to find. It's excruciating: thinking you're alone in your own world. And I had just near given up, too. But things often strike when you stop searching for them.

After 3 months in Thailand, I hopped on a plane to Melbourne, Australia for a few short weeks. My cousin, Mia, and her boyfriend Colin graciously brought me into their home. It was a difficult transition, going from a hot, beach bungalow to a cool city. It was fall in Melbourne and the chill in the air really shook me, especially given that there was no heating in the house. I spent most of my days lost in my writing and I didn't venture out as much as I probably should have. I began to feel a longing to explore the town, but the big city had quite an intense impact on me and I felt trapped by the normality of city life. Everyone around me seemed pressed for time, stressed out, anxious and lackluster against the backdrop of Island life. I needed a push to leave the confines of my cousin's yard where I happily watched her chickens peck and scrape at the earth.