I probably should leave the part about my relationship with women
upto your imagination, because it would make for a much better story.
I
was ashamed not to have broken up with my highschool sweetheart before
leaving. It was completely disingenious. If I had met some adventurous,
like minded woman, I believe I would have jumped ship. But there was
something else holding me back from dumping her. I think it was kind of
like a life line. I knew I was going to get into all sorts of shit, and I
wanted to have a plan to have something to come back to. Even though I
had a deep suspicion it was a fraud.
Pamela said stupid things
that made me cringe. "I want a house that doesn't have stairs," she
said. As if I should go and get her a stairless house, or care about
some house sometime in the future. "I won't be able to do any vacuuming
because of my back, you'll have to do it."
At that time in my
life I was condemned or, perhaps blessed, to live in the moment.
Gathering the resources to plan the bike trip was for a few months was
about as much as I could muster.
Clearly this woman was trying to push me away whether she knew it or not.
She also notice that I didn't introduce her to other girls as my girlfriend. That's kind of a telltale sign.
The
trip was about me exploring the meaning of life, not a search for love
or sex, and I'm glad it didn't become that. At the same time almost all
my interactions with women were rife with sexual tension. I was
essentially the same repressed sex mad teenager I had been a few years
prior, and despite being on an awesome motorcycle road trip with black
leather jacket and amazing stories, I quite successfully managed to
chase off any would be pursuers just by being myself.
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