I was walking back to my tent to get some more wine and this guy was standing in the middle of the “road” in the field by himself. He said something about me not smiling. I didn’t realise I wasn’t or anything. I was feeling good and well slightly, ok more than slightly drunk. Probably because of this intoxication instead of doing my usual grunt when someone tells me to smile I made some joke about the fact he wouldn’t be smiling either if he had to go use one of those little cubicles (port-a-loos) He laughed and e got talking. There must be something about rallies and the subject of peeing I don’t know how many conversations about it I had over the two days. So anyway back to this man, he introduced himself but you see, I was as I said more than a little drunk and I forgot to repeat it so it’s totally blank I have a feeling it started with a M but I could be totally wrong. So we were standing in the field chatting away. He said he shouldn’t keep me from my peeing, but I felt in the mood to flirt and in the semi-darkness he looked rather cute. Since it started to rain I suggested we go shelter under the trees by my tent after we both peed, him against a fence post, me in the putrid cubicle, on the joys of not having a penis.

We stood under the tree chatting away for a while. I felt his hand slip into mine. It felt rather nice. I jokingly asked if he always lurks around waiting to hit on woman that need to pee. His response only the ones that aren’t smiling. At which he sort of leaned around and gave me the softest, almost platonic kiss and asked if I was smiling yet. No, I laughed. He said he would have to try harder. We were kissing then rather passionately. He told me I was a great kisser which surprised me somewhat. It’s not that I think I’m a bad kisser just not what I would call great. Now this could be all part of his act of seduction and as the night progressed he proved very adept at it. We chatted and made out and chatted some more. When he was fondling my butt a thought crossed my mind. I was concerned enjoying it but worried at the same time. So I asked him, saying I didn’t want to offend him but was he just horny and looking for some available woman when I stumbled past. He said all the right things to that, how his first comment had been a form of friendly hello without agenda, that I was interesting and when I said quite bluntly I wasn’t going to fuck him she said he wasn’t planning to fuck me either, he was just enjoying holding and touching me. Seem we were both mistaken about that. The rain had become quite heavy and he took my hand and lead me to my tent. I had been avoiding going in there not because I didn’t want to be alone in the tent with him. I mean you can’t get more safe than being surrounded by about 2000 bikers one of which is your pysch nurse who has a black belt in karate. It’s just my tent is tiny and it would get very claustrophobic. It actually did at one point causing me to escape from it quickly for a while before I started clawing at the fabric.

We lay there in the dark and cuddled and talked. It’s been a very long time since I have had that, lying in bed (or in this case on the ground) and cuddling and touching and stroking. The people we have been involved with of late all seemed more interested in passing that finishing line than being in the moment. It was romantic, tender and relaxing in a heated sort of way. Of course as things do in these situations things got decidedly more heated and we did end up having sex, a number of times. It was the best sex I have ever had I must say and on discussions with others here it’s been years since we have enjoyed that level of intimacy and pleasure with someone as much as we did last night. It was more about the full experience and then came my bad choice.

We were lying there dozing and I knew I had to ask him to return to his tent. I wanted him to stay, I would have loved him to stay but I had a problem. I knew everyone here was dealing with so much. There were too many new variables to deal with for everyone. We were in a place we didn’t know, sleeping in a tent, lying on the ground with tents all around us far away from the safety of our own home and I was fearful if someone woke up to find a strange man beside us it might push us over the edge we were straddling off and on. He seemed hurt that I asked him to go, and I was upset about it myself but for the sake of the whole community I felt I had to. I think there was also a tiny fear of mine that he would see me in the morning and think he made a mistake. when he left he said he would come see me in the morning. As it was and this is why my decision was the wrong one, for a number of reasons (see next entry when we get around to writing it) we were awake most of the night and he could have stayed without causing stress to the community.

Because we didn’t sleep we got up very early and went in search for coffee. I ended up running into Bob and his partner and spending a while talking with them. I got back and packed up my tent and sat down and waited for a while. He never showed. I don’t know if we simply missed each other or if he didn’t turn up. I wish a number of things. I wish he had stayed, I wish I had coffee with him in the morning to see his face in the light. I wish that sometime I had at least given him my cell number. There is now simply no way of tracking him, hi is gone from my life. Now before that sounds so terribly melodramatic, the guy lives in Christchurch, he wasn’t going to move in with me, hell it’s unlikely we would ever see him again. Last night was what it was, a wonderful experiences that I will cherish and am glad I had, and indeed teaches us more about what it is we want from relationships. It was what it was, but I still kicked myself for the way it ended.

-Isabella