I spring to my feet and look outside, just in time to see Will in his white robe, heading back down my patio steps. I open the doors and witness the glory of my fully functioning hot tub, complete with soft glowing lights and rising steam. I squeal and yell, ‘Thank you!’ to Will who replies, ‘Happy to help,’ like a Walmart employee.
It takes me approximately ninety-seven seconds to throw on my swimming costume and tie back my hair before I’m decked out in robe and slippers and back at the hot tub. Even though I’m completely alone, I feel more than a little self-conscious as I disrobe. The cold air prickles my stubbly legs, my heavy boobs are not appreciating the lack of unwire and I don’t even try to suck my stomach in, it’s beyond assistance.
I step in and let the warm water envelope my legs, before sinking in deeper until I’m completely submerged to my shoulders and resting in one of the small bucket seats. The water feels delicious, but I feel vulnerable, and choose to sit with my back to the cabin to reduce the possibility of someone just appearing from nowhere and dunking me under. I hear faint music floating over from Will’s cabin and it makes me feel a little calmer. I need some background noise to know I’m not entirely alone.
Eventually, I close my eyes and breathe, attempting to relax but it’s not easy.
In for three… out for three… or was it four? I think it was four.Oh, whatever, just do it, Nora, it worked earlier.
My swimming costume rides up my arse and I fish it back out.
Nothing… just think of nothing… axe murder… stop it…
Am I the only person on the planet incapable of chilling out in a hot tub? I feel foolish: foolish that I couldn’t open the hot tub, foolish that I’m doing this, foolish that I’m here in the first place but most of all, foolish that after being bombarded with positive energy and affirmations all day, I feel lonelier and more pathetic than I have in a long time.
I look up at the sky and gaze at the stars, which are bigger and brighter than I’ve ever seen. It’s so beautiful and so humbling that all at once, I feel small. Insignificant. Hell, I feelemotional, what is wrong with me? Maybe this alone time isn’t good for me – too much time to reflect. Too much time to wonder why exactly I’m forty and not even close to sharing the second half of my life with someone. Without warning, the tears begin to flow down my cheeks, and I wipe them away angrily. I don’t do self-pity. I am where I am because that’s the way my life has worked out and no amount of meditation or self-aggrandising can magically change that. There are so many people here, with so much hope that they will be able to undo or forget the pain they’ve known, with hope that somewhere someone will repair all the hurt, but I don’t believe that. There is no love of my life. I will never be ‘the one’. I am the one before they marry and even the one while they’re married (Neil Sutton, 2017, huge mistake) but I’m never just ‘the one’. I scowl at the sky like it’s responsible, but it isn’t. If I’m certain of one thing, it’s that the universe does not give one solitary shit that I’m alone. And one day, hopefully, neither will I.
I attempt to dry my eyes with my wet hand and laugh at how preposterous I must look. I thought hot tubs were supposed to be fun. They should writemay cause tear-inducing rumination when mixed with wineon the safety pamphlet. I think I’m done for this evening.
CHAPTER16
BOOTCAMP: DAY 2
‘And how are you this morning, Nora? You’re looking a little tired.’
I walk around the chairs in the main hall, towards Brad who unsurprisingly doesn’t look tired. Brad looks like he slept on a damn cloud.
‘Must just have slept heavily,’ I reply, ignoring the fact that I cried for at least an hour before bed and another hour in bed, resulting in red eyes and pillow face. ‘I’m fine.’
‘Come sit with me.’
I oblige, pulling across a chair. I feel like I’m being given a performance review by my really hot boss. I still feel a bit emotional this morning; I wonder if he’ll hug me? I hope not, I might start crying again.
‘The first night after bootcamp can be hard on a lot of people,’ he says, placing his hands on his lap. ‘You’re alone, vulnerable and you’ve released a lot of emotion, even if it isn’t evident at the time. The most important thing is that you don’t suppress this; there’s no right or wrong way to feel. If you need to cry—’
‘No, it’s just—’
‘You won’t be the only one, I assure you. There will be a lot of eyes just as red as yours this morning.’
My bottom lip starts to wobble, like Charlie’s does when she thinks I’m mad with her; thinking about that makes mine wobble even more.
‘I don’t know where this is coming from,’ I start to say, before the lump in my throat ensures that no additional words can be spoken without a sob in between each. ‘I… just…’
‘This is a positive response,’ he assures me, his hand moving from his lap onto mine. ‘Clearing negative blockages from your subconscious is the only way to allow in new and more positive desires. You’re already vibrating at a high frequency.’
I shake my head. ‘I’m just having a small meltdown, it’ll pass, and I’ll be back to—’
He squints at me. ‘Why would you want to go back? So, you can continue to repeat the same behaviours and patterns? The ones that led you to your so-called “meltdown”?’
‘Well, not exactly,’ I reply but then pause. Something in what he’s saying resonates with me.
‘We feel things for a reason, Nora. Pain is an indicator that something isn’t right, whether it’s physical or emotional. You wouldn’t ignore a physical pain in your heart, why are you choosing to disregard an emotional one?’
‘I get what you’re saying, but we can’t just go around wallowing in self-pity, can we?’ I reply. ‘You have to move on.’
‘But how can you truly move on if nothing has changed? Nora, when the universe—’
‘I don’t buy thisuniversestuff,’ I say bluntly. ‘I’m sorry, I just don’t get it.’
