masked stranger

i knew when i walked up to that door that something was going to change.

i couldn’t believe my luck when i saw who was behind it.

i’d thought he was hot for years, always assuming he was out of my league.

not that night.

that night, he wanted me.

we ended up on the bottom bunk of the backpackers, kissing, everything moving too fast.

i said no. i know i said no.

i said no more than once.

it didn’t make a difference.

it was only afterwards that i could really understand what had happened.

when i stood up to get my wallet, i realised i’d been robbed as well.

this was my schoolies.

my introduction into adulthood.

until we understand the energetics of our own bodies, we don’t really know what we want.

we choose based on what we see.

what we’re shown.

what the collective tells us is desirable.

when we see someone attractive, we don’t see who they are.

we don’t see their values.

their intentions.

whether they can actually meet us in a real life.

we become tunnel-visioned by the idea of something

instead of the truth of what’s in front of us.

that’s how we give our power away.

how we lose our sense of self

and hand our sovereignty to someone we don’t know, hoping they’ll fix us or make us feel whole.

it’s only when the mask comes off that we see what’s real.

don’t be seduced by the story.

magnetise to the frequency.

this is seduction

the masked stranger