Emya27

My ex and i met in Asia. Vietnam, to be specific. We had sex everywhere, moved in together, and travelled all over the region-Bali being my favourite. We never had sex on a beach, but I did shortly following our breakup-with a german man whose name I cannot remember. It wasn’t bad, but make sure you take a shower after. I had a sunburn and the bed ended up covered in sand. Not fun.
The last man that I dated was a perfectly nice guy—a provider type, who, even after we broke up, would take me to the doctor if I needed a ride, would help me out of any situation, and would take me to a movie to make me feel better. If you’re about to tell me that he was in love with me, well, we probably were in love with each other just a little bit. But the reason why we broke up was because I just couldn’t picture myself travelling with him anywhere. I knew that within a short while he would stifle me, I would get bitter, and that would be that. We’d be ended.
And so I ended it.
I loved travelling—of speeding through the alleys on the back of motorbikes, of snorkelling in the ocean, seeing thailand, singapore, malaysia and cambodia. I’d go back in a heart beat. All the better to share an amazing experience with the man that I love… :)

I used to feel guilty saying no… i always equated the word no with I can’t. Now I associate it with I won’t. And I really don’t care who thinks I’m a bitch because I’m not interested in doing whatever it is that they think that I should do. It’s like some button went off in my head once I hit 25. Suddenly, I realised that no was a mode of self preservation, of setting boundaries, and that anyone that didn’t respect those boundaries was probably someone that I didn’t need to know. In some ways it is being selfish. In other ways, it totally isn’t. I love saying no. Totally and absolutely love it.

I have a list somewhere of all the things that I want in a partner, which probably don’t matter when you find that person with the one thing that does, which is, for me: I don’t know. Which is why I’m still on my own. I guess what it comes down to is wanting two things that are completely opposed to one another: I want the whole package: someone smart, compassionate, funny, tall, cute who loves to travel and see what’s out there with me; but at the same time I want the house, the babies, the trips to Canadian Tire and Tim Horton’s and a mortgage. Just no mini van.