9 years

Reading through these posts has been quite an experience. I have never seen such incoherence in my life. It's quite obvious I only ever wrote here when I felt like it, and when I had something in my mind just burning to get out there, and so in order to save myself the humiliation of having to confide in someone else, I do it to anonymous cyberspace, instead.
When I started this blog in July 2004, I was in junior year in college, in love with my first ever boyfriend, and going through such teenage angst like you wouldn't believe. Angst aside, it wasn't a perfect existence..college being a bitch notwithstanding, my long-distance relationship put the H in effing hard. But being 18 and idealistic, I worked at it. It all fell apart after four years of being on-again, off-again, of course. I haven't seen Nikki in almost six years - and I prefer it to stay that way.
I am 27 now, and in the 9 years since I started this blog, and amidst the various, intermittent posts on here, I have: 
1. graduated from college
2. started a first job at a conservation organisation
3. left my first job at a conservation organisation
4. broke up with my first boyfriend for the last time (though he remains my first love. what can I say, I'm cheesy that way)
5. started my second job at an international consulting firm (and have stayed put ever since. Yey, me!)
6. went on my first ever out-of-country work trip to Banda Aceh
7. met Andrew, an Aussie and the man of my dreams, in a remote village ten hours from Banda Aceh (sadly, he was married. yep, life's a bitch)
8. took almost a year to get over him, during which I started seeing Paul (and by seeing I really mean: met with regularly to make bang-chika-bangbang music)
9. fell in love with Paul (yep, like i said, life's a bitch) and he with me
10. had humongous, violent fights with Paul over Andrew (freak-ass, insecure son of a bitch - although his mom really is quite nice)
11. broke it off with Paul (he dumped me first, actually. stupid boy thought I'd take him back after he apologised. he sure had another think coming)
12. took two years to get over him (just cause for the first year he kept hanging about like an itch I couldn't get rid off. and then stupid me for getting the Stockholm syndrome - or whatever syndrome serves in this case - and actually wanting to get back together again with him. thank goodness That fell through).

So here I am now, 27 and still single, whilst everyone around me has started to get married and have babies left and right. Strangely, i have absolutely NO interest right now in getting married, and certainly much less desire to have a kid. I am unequivocally NOT ready for that kind of responsibility. But having a boyfriend would be nice. I certainly miss kissing. And all other ancillary services, of course. *wink*
I'm not proud to report that my thrice-broken heart does not make for a most optimistic view of love and that it has left me, for the most part, bitter. That it has left me assigning an inordinate premium on sex over companionship, just because that just seems so much less complicated, and certainly seemingly more attainable. Boasting aside, with this rack, it's hard for boys not to notice my body.
So much so that it has led me down another path down which I really don't want to go, and yet I find myself going along with the flow, or at least unable to hold on to something and extricate myself from this situation I've found myself in. Let me clarify. 
Like I said, I work for an international firm with Australian origins. As such, we have quite a few aussies in our office, and not surprisingly found myself socialising with a few on one of our 'drinks nights". I was chatting with this one guy in particular. His name is Neill, and he is married. Needless to say, I was drunk and not thinking straight when this happened. Yep, I blame him too for flirting back. Weeks later we both attend a party thrown by our country manager. It ended up being a pool party when we were down to the last 15 or so guests. Sparks flew in the pool, I think. Certainly between us. We'd been chatting on WhatsApp regularly since that first night, and this pool party only served to launch us into something we both didn't expect. We left the party together, holding hands as we got out of the gate (and from view of people). He helped me into a cab, and I went home by myself. Apparently he wanted to get in and let the fates take us wherever. He stopped himself in time just cause he wasn't sure if he'd misread me. A few more weeks after that and our previously harmless flirting on WhatsApp and at the office (when no one was looking) finally culminated in us admitting being attracted to each other, and having "fishing" thoughts about each other. From there it wasn't a huge step to start exchanging pictures. And only a few more teensy steps towards talking about doing it for real. And our last conversation we were making Actual plans of getting together and fishing each other's brains out.
Yep, he will be the second married guy I have sex with. Also my second Aussie. Judge me if you want, I don't know you, and even if I did, I have never been someone who cared what people think. I'm not about to start now.