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Fall backwards into life and you’ll be sure to find some unexpected surprises. Of course, some of those so called surprises will be predicted. Your subconscious suspected but never confirmed and allowing yourself to tumble confirmed your doubts. When it came to the dilemma of my bisexuality I left my boyfriend of three years in pursuit of something female and it feels like breathing for the first time in awhile. In his suffocating presence I choked and that became the norm. The things I wanted meant pushing him aside and walking into the frightening unknown. I was prepared to get hurt if it meant moving forward. That, I’ve realised, is the kind of person I had learnt to be. It’s not a bad thing, not that I see. To try something new terrifies me to bits and yet I still want to try because the possibilities that open from each situation are infinite.

I want to be a scientist and an artist, a writer and designer of those beautiful hillside houses, a school teacher and boxer, a god brought to earth and a stylish murderer. I want my house to be nestled in the orchards of Lismore and I want my flat to reign high above the city. I want a skinny cat and a fat dog and ten guinea pigs from various rescues and abandoned shoeboxes. I want house plants overflowing from jam jars and I want a sterile location. I want my hair to be black and green and blonde all at once. I want enough tattoos to cover with bandaids and enough that they peek through my clothes and leer at strangers. I want various lovers and I want my one and only. Can I do this all in one lifetime? Can I try?

It no longer feels like I am alone now. I was alone long before I left my boyfriend. The path ahead is ever-winding and I expect to bruise my knees conquering its rocky terrain. Still I’ll reach the peak, zenith, slightly taller part of the track from which if I stand on my toes I can sea a slither of the big, blue sea.

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