Friday 27th March 09 – Byron Bay.

My beloved boy came, as he promised, to visit last weekend, and it was bliss.
We met on the beach at 9am. I had set up a lime green kikoi to sit on, with plastic cups full of blackberry yoghurt, muesli and honey, with bananas and fresh orange juice (from a carton). I spotted him a mile off, trudging down the beach looking like he had just hopped off the boat. Barefoot, jeans rolled up, sun bleached cotton shirt and a battered leather holdall slung over his shoulder, complete with nervous grin and his trademark mop of roman curls. My man.
I skipped up to him wearing the very same nervous grin, and my smallest summer dress, and giggled “hey baby!” as he whisked me into his arms.
Que lazy summer guitar riffs, lots of highly inappropriate public displays of affection, and muesli munching.
We spent the weekend flopping around town, draped around each other, barefoot as usual. I brought the coolest bike (white and pink 1980’s mountain bike, with carrier.) and enjoyed showing off my new favourite place, to my favourite boy. He too, fell in love with the magical bubble that we are well and truly in here, and it wasn’t long before he looked as if he had been here all along and was chatting to my fellow yoginis as if he had known them for years.
Sunday afternoon came and he had to head back to “the real world”. I was in tears, predictable as usual, as he kissed me goodbye and hopped on the bus, reassuring me that it would only be two more weeks until he was here for good.
So here we are, 7days until I am released back into a world of alcohol, drugs, human beings of the opposite sex, and people who cannot touch their toes first thing in the morning.
This week is now a mad dash to the end, whilst trying to cram in last minute homework, final assessments, to see if we have learned anything in the past 7 weeks, and running around trying to find somewhere to live ready for 4pm next Friday when I am, very un yogically, booted out of the ashram and become the ‘Suppleist Hobo’.

x