“Love takes off the masks we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within” – James Baldwin

I fell deeply – and unexpectedly – in love once. It was unexpected because it came at a time when I was completely focused on building the foundation for the rest of my life. The first year of my doctorate studies. My flatmate had friends come over and suggested we have a weekend away. I didn’t want her to go alone, so I agreed to accompany them.

I was shocked to find myself on a yacht in the Mediterranean, but as the group had fun enjoying the pleasures that accompany that lifestyle, I preferred to stay to myself. Enjoying the views from my cabin. Reading my Mills and Boon novels. I was completely satisfied. Happy with the simple pleasures of what life had brought my way.

In hindsight, I understand that made me a target. I was different from everyone else there. What was understood as aloofness, was just the introvertish behavior of not being used to that lifestyle and an inabilty to pretend as if I were.

He (I won’t mention his name because, in the grand scheme of things, it’s irrelevant to this story) was the host of our weekend. A weekend where, amongst the theatrical fun, everyone was stating what their deepest desires and plans were – and how to help each other achieve them. I’d always had a plan: build a career where I felt I was doing something useful, marry, have kids and see where life took me and my precious would-be family.

It was probably naive, but I was in my early twenties and I didn’t know any better.

Our first real encounter came when he came into my cabin one afternoon. I had been reading my romance and he burst in at a particularly juicy part. I laugh now about it, but then, I was shocked out of my skin! He was charming – as all hosts of weekend yacht parties tend to be – and gentle with me. He asked me what I had been reading and that began our hours long conversation into what my dreams and aspirations were… had been. I didn’t want to be president, or be queen of the world, as some others had mentioned. I didn’t want to be a world-famous singer, or movie star. I just wanted to be me.

In many ways, I don’t think he ever truly understood what that meant. He didn’t know me, nor did the the people that surrounded him – especially the flatmate who I had selflessly (perhaps, stupidly) accompanying to make sure she’d be okay.

Anyways, it’s still hard for me to come to terms with what ensued after that fateful weekend. It’s hard for me to talk about. Needless to say, it took off the mask that I feared I could not live without and now know I cannot live within. And that was being in love.