Sunshine

I remembered back to the day I got that second Akashic records reading done, a year earlier. I was sitting in my room in Brisbane, feeling high on life. Everything was going to plan. I imagined where I'd be in a year's time, and the future looked exciting. I liked who I was becoming. After a challenging year, life had blossomed into an ecstatic shower of sunshine and rainbows.

A few hours after the reading, Lucas picked me up for a date. We went for a walk along the river, and ate ice cream, and joked, and laughed, and then he broke up with me completely out of the blue.

What the actual fuck?

I was so blindsided. Embarrassed. Ashamed.

What's wrong with me? That phrase ricocheted around my head once more.

I flashed back to that day in school when I hid my Halloween costume in a drawer and bawled my eyes out after overhearing Rachel by the lockers. Blindsided. Embarrassed. Ashamed.

Had nothing changed? I felt like such a fool. Weren't Lucas and I just laughing together and having a great time? I thought I was invited to this party, but it turns out I wasn't. Silly me.

I felt so stupid for letting myself develop feelings for him. Everyone always leaves, anyway. I should've known better. Everything always changes. Nothing is permanent. Life is transient. Passion is ephemeral and shifts like sand through an hourglass.

"When did you decide this?" I asked him.

"Actually, it's strange. I only decided right before I came here."

Great, I thought. Just as I was getting that fucking Akashic records reading done. That reading was supposed to help me get focused for the new year. Thanks a lot, soul.

He continued. "The truth is, I've been torn up about it for the past week because I honestly think you're one of the most incredible women I've ever met. I tell everyone about you. You are just... sunshine."

Why were men always telling me I was sunshine, right before they dumped me? I'd heard that one before, many years ago. Like I was some kind of portal into a life far removed from their own, and they just wanted to drench themselves in warm light before returning to their real life.

But I am not your manic pixie dream girl.

Well, truth be told, maybe I'm a little manic...

"It's just..." Lucas continued. "It's just… well... it's just that we're so different, you know? My training schedule has been so out of whack since I met you, and my sport is my life. I feel like I have to choose between you and my sport, and I can't do that. I'll end up resenting you. It's just not going to work long-term, and I don't want to get any more emotionally invested. Plus, you know I'm moving to Sydney next year for that new job. I told you that on our second date."

He had told me that. Excellent, I'd thought. At least I know when he's going to leave.

Six months after we stopped seeing each other, I found out he'd gotten together with one of his best friends — his training partner; a woman he spent a lot of time with. I'm glad he found someone who shared his passion.

Meanwhile, I was being serenaded by two Colombian musicians and their manager, whom I'd met at a fashion show in Medellin. The manager, Juan, was tall and cute, and took a liking to me. He had mutual friends with Zac and lived down the road. A few nights later, he and his two musician friends came over to drink wine and play music on the terrace overlooking the city. They got out their guitars and sang me songs in Spanish with my name woven throughout the lyrics. I was sitting there amongst the pot plants and fairy lights with the city twinkling in the background, thinking, 'How on earth did I end up here, having this experience?'

And then, after a few hours of songs and chatting, the two musicians checked their phones and made some kind of semi-plausible excuse as to why they had to leave. This mysterious curfew didn't affect Juan, of course, who slyly made the whole stretch-and-place-his-arm-around-my-shoulder move as the others left. I couldn't help but think, 'Wow, these Colombians have game. That was a really well-executed wingman operation. Well done, gentlemen.'