The night before my plane took off for Greece, I had a one night stand that didn't go over so well. Prior to my trip, I had unlocked what it meant to have sex. Due to my religious stand point, I was a virgin until I got married at the age of twenty-one. Both my husband and I were pretty novice to sex so there was a lot we didn't know.
However, as my marriage was coming to an end, I remember declaring, "I just want to fall in love over and over again." And it was true. I wanted to experience infatuation at it's finest. My ex-husband was the first man I had been allowed to date. Previous to that, I knew nothing about dating or sex. It was all brand new. I had slept with one person and it was fairly one sided. There was so little I knew and understood about my needs, wants and desires. Most of all, there was so much I didn't understand about my body. Being an artist, who's work literally is there body, this would become a pivotal key in my success later on.
Once my divorce papers were filed, I began exploring the world. As great and wonderful as these stories are, I'll refrain from adding them to this series. What that year comes down to, is that I learned a great deal about my body and myself. I did have the chance to fall in love over and over again. It was absolutely wonderful. But in time, it became absolutely meaningless. I loved the feeling of being in a bar, looking across the room, locking eyes with someone and then the rest being history. But in time, as all fun things do, it lost it's magical luster. Every time I fell "in love", it resulted in a minor, quick heartbreak. Or worse, I'd break someone else's heart. Eventually, it became a meaningless game. But all the same, I felt safe. I was in control, I was in power, and nobody was close enough to me to truly break my heart. It was all superficial and fun and games.
But the night before heading to Greece, I realized I didn't want that anymore. I wanted depth and meaning in my life again. I wanted to stop cheating myself out of intimacy and I wanted to be real with myself again. So I sabotaged the one-night stand. It was an awkward and uncomfortable night and resulted with the poor guy leaving out my backdoor.
After I laid in my bed feeling a little uncomfortable, but also oddly satisfied that I got to sleep alone. I was ready to ease up on all the fun and start being real with myself again. I had dug myself so deep into my persona of being Alicia Cirque, the sensual cirque burlesque artist that I had pretty much lost Alyssa Liu. I was consumed in my dark sensual side. I liked the power and control I had of being the object of one's fantasy. The seductive temptress that men idolized but could never really have. But I had almost completely lost that little missionary girl. The one who actually cared about other people and wanted to see a happy and whole world. I missed her and I wanted a piece of her back. Maybe not all of her, but all the good things: the compassion, the innocence, the kindness, the intellect, the selflessness. And I wanted to keep the good things that Alicia brought to: the confidence, the boldness, the fun, the dark mysterious sensuality. But both personas were so vastly different. I literally was losing sight of who I was because I couldn't combine the two together.
So the next day, I got on the plane and took off for Greece. I didn't know how, but I felt assured that I would return somehow combining both personas into one and thus, becoming who I was always meant to be.