• Clarke Rose


Here we are again: Back on Sex and Roses! I am blogging from my phone, in a small bungalow nestled in Sa Pa, Vietnam, a small village in the north. Outside rain is gushing onto our roof, the rice fields, and running all the way through the valley. Pierre, who is James, and you all know that (but I will continue to call him Pierre), is still sleeping. My last post was a lot about learning how to love myself when I was distanced from my partner. Sufficed to say, I learned a lot about what it should take but I’m not sure if I learned how to do it. And I think that’s okay, it’s a long process and I am genuinely working on it everyday. Or I try to. It was never my idea to come to Southeast Asia, like not even on my list. I wanted to graduate and either 1) stay in Paris and work full time and live with Pierre 2) do a gap year in Australia or 3) my least favorite option, move home and apply to grad schools and probably have to end things with Pierre. When we finally had the conversation winter break of my senior year, he said he wanted to be with me and I wanted to be with him and he would do some solo traveling I would go home and make some money and we would meet in Vietnam on September 1st, go through Southeast Asia and then move to Australia for a year. And I thought, ooh, romantic. Now you need to know that Asia has CHALLENGED me, and we are only about a fourth into our trip. The first month we nannied for a family which all but exhausted our sex life and on top of it all I was shit with the kids and Pierre was great with them and that made me cranky. Our weekends off were absolutely beautiful but something nearly always went wrong in the beginning or end of them. Like our motorbike getting a flat tire 30 minutes after getting it making us miss our ferry to Ha Long Bay and causing me to wait alone at a port for four hours without WiFi while Pierre went and fixed the situation. Nonetheless the bike got fixed, another ferry came, and Cat Ba Island was just what our sex life needed. We were staying at this cute little bungalow style hotel, and there was a pool and restaurant downstairs. One night I slipped on my little red bikini (Pierre looked at me and said, “Holy shit, your body”) and we went down to the pool. It’s right in the middle of the restaurant which wasn’t so busy yet, but there were some people seated around. It was happy hour and every drink was buy one get one free so together we had six margheritas and by the second one I was hiccuping and laughing and wet underneath the water. The restaurant got busier and busier and Pierre pushed me up against the side of the pool and began to feel me over my bikini, and then under it. I’m not sure what people could see but I love the idea of people watching so I didn’t much mind. It was our show our pool our hotel our love affair our fucking weekend away from the kids. We then went up to the room and had uninhibited drunk after the pool sex. Pools have always turned me on, so I loved this moment. It was messy and crazy and free and when it was done I bent over and asked him to rub all our mutual come on me, why? I don’t know I was drunk but I wanted our creation rubbed on me like panties because it was ours, we created it, I wanted to feel and revel in it. Hungry, we drunkenly went and hopped on our scooter (STUPID IDEA) which I thought was so sexy to be on with him and we rode to dinner. We sat at a romantic outdoor patio and had vegan food before returning home and cuddling all night. That weekend had reminded me that you can not have sex for awhile and it’s not a huge deal. The children and family we were staying with and not having a door on our room made it difficult for us to have sex and one weekend away, a bungalow, a swimming pool and happy hour made it all come rushing back. Then there was the weekend in Hanoi, which unfortunately Pierre has sworn me to secrecy about, but let’s just say it involved peeing and it was so lovely, and if you want more info, message me :) or insta: @clarke_audrey So October 3, we hopped on our new shiny red motorbike and drove 2 days to make it to Sa Pa, where we are now. We drove over 10 hours and it wasn’t until the last 5 minutes, we tried to take a steep hill up to our Homestay, that the motorbike began to roll back, before falling into a ditch, and I landed underneath Pierre and the bike, and with a rock in my back that broke my rib. When this happened, I didn’t know where in the world I was, I didn’t know what in the hell was broken, I just knew I couldn’t breathe and it wasn’t worth it to have life long body damage just to visit Vietnam. And I began to harbor a little resentment towards Pierre for choosing this adventure. Perhaps not fair, I know, but I was so scared and never in more pain in my entire life. I had scrapes all over my body, I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, and then the next day I had an intense all body stress rash, a cut that wasn’t healing, aaaandddd icing on the cake, PINK EYE! Which later spread to my other eye, which was a mess. It wasn’t until the following day that Pierre and I made it to the local hospital, where they confirmed I broke my rib and said I need 4-6 weeks rest. This changed our plans, and put pressure on us both. Pierre went out looking for a more private place we could stay while I was healing and that’s how we ended up in these cozy bungalows. Where they feed us three vegan meals a day, do our laundry, they called a doctor for me, and where somehow, after only 8 days, I’m feeling a lifetime better than I was a week ago. Now, here’s to say I had two days that were DARK. I felt broken, like I wouldn’t heal, I felt ugly, and mad at Pierre for choosing Asia, for driving up that hill, for not having any injuries. And I let that darkness surround me and eat me and I was miserable; until I wasn’t. I woke up one night at 3 am and it occurred to me that everything, absolutely everything, happens for a reason and I changed my damn attitude. Lunch time the next day, Pierre and I got to talking about the rocky beginning of our relationship, while sitting on our bed surrounded by our pink mosquito net that I just love. We talked it all out, like everything we ever avoided, it was messy, a little painful, a little angry, a little sad. At the end of it, we packed all that baggage and put it in an imaginary bag and through it out the door, after, we were 1000 times closer. He takes care of me everyday, brings me flowers, medicine, makes sure I’m eating right. And just the other day, we started to have sex again and I swear it was like I was a fucking virgin. Having him lay me down gently, spread my legs, look at me, lick me, touch me, felt like the first time ever. Like it was a new man I was letting Fuck me, and I was a new woman being fucked. It was heightened sex, it was gentle and sensational. Then he said, let’s try edging. Oh, my, god. WHAT AN ORGASM. He licked me until I felt like coming, and then I wasn’t allowed to come but we set a three minute timer, in that time if I felt close to finishing he would stop, and then at three minutes I was allowed to orgasm. At three minutes I felt pressure like oh shit, now I have to come, but I relaxed into it, and he did some insane licking motion and it built so slowly, starting in my chest and moving down my stomach until I was screaming like I was in an opera probably terrifying the Muong tribe running this homestay. We’ve been having sex like that for the last couple days. I look at him with only love and admiration, like he’s someone I want to spend the rest of my life with. I can’t picture it with anyone else. And relationships are work, especially if you kind of reject heteronormative monogomy, but you fell right into it and now you’re figuring out how to make it yours and not what it’s been told to be. But love is sometimes this: being stuck with someone in an odd situation and going through all the bumps and edges until you make it into something more beautiful because you want to and it’s worth it. After my summer in California I wanted laser hair removal, lip injections, eye lash extensions, new clothes, now all I want is to heal, to be healthy in my body. I want my baby, I want to remember this view, this rain, the rice fields, the healing process because it’s incredible. Sometimes I think you have to break just to become aware of how damn strong you are. In just 8 days I can feel my rib knitting itself back into place, on a 100% vegan diet and sans western medicine at that; just love and sex and rest and vegan food and rain and Pierre, my ultimate lover.  

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