Don't feel bad for me...that trip yielded one of the best stories of my year and lead me to where I am now...come with me on my little international sl** journey, for just a moment....
I was pissed. As I said, I had landed, texted this guy (who wasn't really an ex but just a guy from my past), and nothing. I don't know what happened, but it doesn't matter. However, I was jet lagged, tired, upset, starving and aggravated. Plus, I had to go and spread the ashes of a very dear friend and I was all over the board emotionally. I sat, holed up in my hotel room bathroom calling Keen about this guy and the predictions came through, one by one, that it was unlikely for me to see him. I was pissed at Arriana, because she'd really worked me up to see this guy. I decided I wouldn't contact him again--and I never did (again, it's like exactly a year ago now).
The next day, after much driving, spreading the ashes, holding a baby lamb (which was a fantastic 5 euro investment--I highly recommend it), and getting back to my friend's house, I managed to hunt down another reader off Keen (who, don't even ask me who it is, because I will never recommend her again--story for another time), because I just felt like crap. She talked me down and encouraged me to be open to an adventure waiting for me in another city. So, the next day, again in my little French teeny car, I drive across this stunning country, my home away from home, and I spend the two hours in the car thinking about the sort of guy I want to meet, where we would meet (at a pub I like), but I threw in the added complication that he would have to stay at my hotel so I'd be able to track him down, if something happened. For two hours, I concocted this whole evening--two details presented themselves to me--I knew he was British and in finance. I don't particularly care for British men, so this wasn't part of the fantasy and I have a background in finance, but not really sure where these two details came from. I sort of observed them, didn't know what to do with them, so just let them hang.
Got to my hotel, showered, changed, went to my favorite pub, and sat there with my journal, a pint of my favorite beer and started writing (which is just my thing). And, I hear this British voice ask me what I'm writing--and who even bothers to journal anymore. I don't think much of it. We have a drink, he looks at his watch, I ask him what he does (he works in finance); he says he has to meet his family, he reveals his age--SO SO MUCH younger than I--and then we figure out we are staying in the same hotel. He goes off to a family event; I go off to read about architecture and drink whisky. We run into each other later at the hotel bar--and he asks for my number but my phone has died, so I don't bother giving it to him. He leaves with his father, wishes me a good life and that's that. As I stumbled down the stairs to the loo, I think about what my astrologer had said about me meeting a younger, foreign male, and I think about how he's just gone off drinking with his father and I don't know his last name and how life is fleeting and what a near adventure that was and how soon, I'll have to go home and move forward in life and get over my real POI at the time, and how fun it feels to be drunk and also just, a little wistful and lost.
I come back up. He's returned--we agree to meet at midnight. More drinks at another pub, last name revealed, he made some wildly accurate guesses about me (where my sister lives, our fathers were sick with the same rare, fatal disease). Left my hotel room at 330am. And now, very rarely, I get a text from this guy on the other side of the pond.
HOWEVER, what I learned from this was manifesting. And, a friend pointed out, after I returned home, that sometimes you start manifesting and the universe will whisper into your ear other details to incorporate (like the British and finance). Fast forward to December, I was again on vacation and described my current POI in detail, who I wasn't with at the time and never imagined, in my wildest dreams that I ever would be with. I wasn't able to confirm most details until April and still things have been coming to light in the last few weeks.
Moral of the story: think twice about wearing a bra out in Dublin if you want to get some action; stay open, responsibly, to the possibility that things could turn out better than you imagine; manifest--ask the universe for what you want. It will help you fill in details.
