All At Sea (19 page)

—Waikiki Yacht Club—

You see that? Take a good look.

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No, really keep scrolling.

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That is me breaking up with you in text speak. Goodbye, Kody.

Saturday 5
th
April 2.31am

—Blue Volcano Tavern—

I knew it. Someone suggests you might have to wash a dish and you throw a tanty.

Nice.

Saturday 5
th
April 2.43am

—Waikiki Yacht Club—

Pardon my wanton use of the term “break up.” That would imply we were a couple. I was always still with Lachie.

Wednesday 9
th
April 4.52pm

—Koa Boxing Club & Gym—

I haven’t been surfing properly all week. As soon as I get out there, I rush back to check my texts. In case you threw me a little bone while I was out there. I’m not going to do that anymore. I’m done.

I’m just going to surf, because that’s always been where it’s at for me.

Can I just say, it really has been amazing, Millsy. I have loved it. You’re still beautiful and sexy. You’re a cracker.

Keep the Bunyip.

Kx

Wednesday 9
th
April 6.52pm

—Mockingbird Bookshop & Coffeehaus—

We had a few amazing moments, yes. But mostly it was all just words on a screen. Letters punched into a machine. For every amazing word, there were two ugly ones to either side of it. Scroll back, you’ll see how ugly it was. I was wrong, it wasn’t real.

Lachie is real. Once you get the grunts and gestures part down and learn to speak in small words, he’s a regular chatterbox. I am learning to appreciate the grunts and gestures. There’s a sort of substance to it.

Wednesday 9
th
April 6.57pm

—Mockingbird Bookshop & Coffeehaus—

Wait
,
STILL beautiful and sexy? Despite what?  Fuck you.

You can have the Bunyip. I will never use it again.

I’m on my way to see Lachie so I’ll leave it by your door.

Also, buy some earplugs. The walls are thin and it’s about to get crazy loud up in the backpacker’s!

Wednesday 9
th
April 7.02pm

—Blue Volcano Tavern—

I don’t live there anymore.

Wednesday 9
th
April 7.13pm

—Pinkie’s Pedi Express, Ward Village—

Really? That was quick. And I was so looking forward to tapping out some post-coital Morse Code with you. “Beep-ba-deep-beep-beep! Lachie is so good at this maybe he SHOULD get paid!”

Wednesday 9
th
April 7.48pm

—Pinkie’s Pedi Express, Ward Village—

Knock-knock!

Who’s there?

Millsy!

Millsy-who?  

Millsy-Loves-Some-Lingo-That’s-Who!

No seriously. I Googled “Soul Surfer” today.

Definition: One who surfs for the sheer pleasure of it; who scorns the commercialization of surfing.

Alternative Definition: What Lachie says you could have been before you became Sasha’s whore.

Wednesday 9
th
April 7.49pm

—Blue Volcano Tavern—

Lachie’s pissed because I stopped paying his rent. Maybe your step daddy can give him a job? He could give Lilah some deep Lomi Lomi.

Wednesday 9
th
April 8.01pm

—Ben & Jerry’s, Ward Village—

You are obsessed with my mother. It’s very bizarre.  Maybe you should talk to someone about it. I could give you some names of shrinks if you want.  

Friday 11
th
April 10.13am

—near North Shore, Oahu—

I don’t mind the stalking so much, but Kyla thinks it’s creepy. She’s a swimsuit model! You can tell. But she must not wear them all the time, because that’s an all over-tan.

So would you mind doing your moping elsewhere? This is my place of business.

(Oh and they’re real! I wondered too. Freak. Of. Nature.)

Friday 11
th
April 10.16am

—near North Shore, Oahu
—

You WISH I was stalking you. I’m waiting for Lachie to finish up with that group of parasitic corporates. Bankers on a boondoggle. Doing some kind of trust-building shit, I bet. (Do you know this word boondoggle? Google it, you’ll find so much use for it!) Tell Lachie I’ll wait for him at the café.

Friday 11
th
April 10.16am

—near North Shore, Oahu
—

Wait...did you say Kyla’s a swimsuit model?

Hold up...

Friday 11
th
April 10.18am

—near North Shore, Oahu—

BAHAHAHAHA!

My apologies. I was choking on my overpriced latte.

She’s what, like late twenties, early thirties? Washed up, like whoa! Unless it’s just the beating her skin has taken over the years. Who’s hiring her? The American Skin Cancer Society? Does she make public service announcement commercials? “DO NOT DO THIS TO YOUR SKIN OR YOU WILL LOOK LIKE THIS.” And the boobs? Enjoy. They are at their pinnacle of ripeness with nowhere to go but south. 

(Seriously, you have a Cougar FETISH, man. Seek. Help.)

Perhaps, that friend of hers, though? The younger one with the belly ring? Now, she’s a keeper! Byeeee!

Friday 11
th
April 11.25am

—near North Shore, Oahu—

OK stop.

This is what happened.

You asked me to break up with Fi. I broke up with Fi.

You asked me to say I want all of you. I said I want all of you.

I told you that what had been a lucrative part time job was looking like something more permanent. I outlined all the ways that I thought it was a good move for me. It’s a career. It uses my natural strengths and aptitudes and supports a way of life that I deeply and profoundly love.

I asked you never to be with Lachie. You jump into the cot with Lachie.

I asked you to break up with Lachie. You didn’t.

I asked you to accept me for who I am and consider the reality of what being with me would be all about. You told me it was a small life and asked me to move to a different part of the planet, and then dumped me when I said I thought we should probably talk that through.

Is that not a fair assessment of what went down, Millsy?

I have said from the beginning that I am just a knucklehead surfer. This is who I am. This is what I do. It’s not like I was some kind of corporate exec and then after five years of marriage I dropped my briefcase and picked up a board. This was who I was when you met me.

You are asking me to change who I am and move away from my life based on what exactly?

What are you giving up for me? Nothing. You can’t even give up Lachie for me and you know, and have known for fcken MONTHS that every minute you are with him kills me.

But I let it go because I’m a fckn feminist and I believe that you should be allowed to have ownership of your own body.

Having been dumped by you, and then further stomped on at every opportunity, I am choosing surfing.

Maybe I have it all wrong. Do I? Tell me the ways I am wrong about this, because I’ve never been in a relationship so full of frustration and humiliation and with so little sex, and I don’t know if I can just let that slip through my fingers if I could have done something to change it.

Friday 11
th
April 1.02pm

—Totally Brewed Café—

You were going to break up with Fi anyway. You didn’t break up with her for me, so don’t act like you did. Getting into my pants just gave you the extra incentive to complete that bit of ugly business in a more timely fashion.

I never said it was a small life. I said it was a small apartment. I know it’s dumb, because I’m too young to even THINK about doing something crazy like moving in with a guy I don’t even know but I was disappointed that you didn’t ask me. It was just: “So this is what I’m doing next. Where do you think I should put the bed. Against this wall or that one?”

There was no “let’s talk that through.” I started to suggest L.A. and your face shut down immediately. I don’t think you even heard a word I said next. You sort of glazed over and so I just segued into “I need to go back. Can you take me back?”

You want to start a career in production/film and you know a rising star who could help you who does work in L.A. How is that not the perfect location for you to try? SoCal has world-class surfing. What’s not to love about that option?

You said once that you don’t care about the money. That you only care about my heart. Clearly, that is not true. Our relative wealth is a huge problem for you. And it’s too bad, I guess, because it’s something I can never fix. I will always have the safety net of my family’s money. It’s not something I asked for nor am I ashamed of. And having a safety net doesn’t mean I won’t go on to be a hard worker. It doesn’t mean I won’t go on to be successful because of me. And having a career is not all about a paycheck. You should know that better than anyone. It is about the personal satisfaction of having left your mark on the world. I will leave my mark. It is not something that Paul will have bought for me. You don’t buy a mark, you earn it. I already earned my first mark as a matter of fact. A small scholarship. Just five-thousand dollars, but still. Did you know that about me? No you didn’t because you’ve never asked me about my art. Even after I mentioned this very fact to you, you still never asked to see a single bit of it.

But whatever. Even if the money were not a problem, my romps with Lachie are. The fact remains that I’ve been with your friend. Many, many times.  Maybe it was a mistake, maybe not. It’s not something I’d take back, I don’t think. And looking back, and having the information that I now have, I suspect the romp you and I had on the beach was simply about conquest, not connection. Remember “Just one minute, Millsy—one gentle kiss before we part ways.” Honouring? Hardly. You knew you would kiss me and I would melt. Those condoms and that blanket didn’t appear out of thin air. That particular alcove nestled out of view? You’ve been there before. You knew it was private. I am not the first babe to have visited the set of Lost. But I didn’t care. And you were great. A real pro. My hat’s off to you Kody, you are a machine.

Whatever. None of this matters. You’re not budging. I’m not budging. So why are we even talking about it. I have to go. Lachie just had a double-shot of espresso and is banging on the bathroom door at the café. He’s rarin’ to go. We have to get back to the hostel now because I have a nail appointment at five, which only leaves us two short hours.

Friday 11
th
April 1.07pm

—near North Shore, Oahu—

You have not had sex with Lachie. I know because I ask him ALLLLL THE TIME. So much that everyone at the hostel asks him now. Olaf asks him every morning. It’s like this running joke. He cracks the shits.

I will know, because when you do, Lachie will have it fckn skywritten.

Friday 11
th
April 1.14pm

—near North Shore, Oahu—