~ Northern Love - Journal of A Lesbian Summer Romance ~
by Elle Carey
e.carey@hotmail.com
Written 2005


Intro

As I sit here, I wonder why it is that I am once again at the end of another relationship? All I can ask myself is...why do I continually mess things up?

What makes me tick?

For so long I have been wishing on stars and blowing out candles in hopes of finding a woman who compliments me in all ways. Someone who enjoys a good laugh, a challenge, honesty, music, children, and the outdoors. Someone whose strengths, combined with mine, makes us a solid unit and whose differences makes us a balanced unit.

I had all of these qualities in one person -- Danielle "Dani" Tousaint, Cold Rivers' very own bilingual princess.

Danielle is an open, gentle spirit, who enjoys laughing, children,....and life in general. She constantly demonstrated her feelings for me with thoughtful gifts, cards, and messages. She brought out feelings deep from within me that had been buried for so long, touching me deeper than any other person I have experienced. She saw things in me that I couldn't see in myself. No matter what I did she loved all of me, good and bad.

At this moment we have dissolved to nothing. We're not speaking, writing, or sharing each others space. All of this is due to my inability to be open with my heart, to trust my feelings, my relationship, and my partner. Of course, all of that is needed to move forward to making an honest committed bond; a life as one.

I try to fill each day full of tasks so as not to have a moment to replay our wonderful memories over and over in my head. Although, there are times when I sit idle and can't help but think about her and how I truly miss her every day. Her scent, gentle touch, and playful laugh -- how these attributes made me melt. Now all that she offers me is friendship, and at this time I can't return the offer. I don't view her that way, nor do I want to. It pains me to think of her being with someone else, but this is reality and I have no other choice than to deal with it.

In early December she stated that she could not continue being in a relationship with me that was undefined. She wanted and needed more out of our relationship. Now here I sit, still yearning for her after so many months. I honestly don't think anyone could ever feel this way for her, nor have I ever been through such emotional pain.

My name is Carrie and this is my story.

Chapter 1

It started in early spring in Nossa, a town in Northern Ontario known for its miles of truck stops and motels. I was hired to be the lead site person at an eco-tourism and kayaking company called "A Paddler's Adventures". A.P.A. is located on an island caught between the mighty Lake Superior and the Michipicoten River. The owner had a long list of repairs in all different areas and I needed out of the city. Being a Jill of all trades, although a plumber by choice, I was hired to do all repairs on the boats, the lodge, and the grounds of this small logging town.

Living there brought many challenges for the staff and myself. First would be surviving the summer in a tent hidden amongst the trees. All staff here at A.P.A were to set up their makeshift summer homes on platforms near the lake. We were to bring a tent, which was to be your sleeping quarters for the coming warm months. Everything else needed would be provided.

My quarters were no different than that of any other staff member. It was on a 9' x 7' wooden deck that stood 1' off the ground so as not to create mold or moisture problems for my gear. My platform was located on the most visual spot in the staff grounds, on the rocks along north shore of Lake Superior. It had a beautiful view of an evening sunset, followed by an open sky of stars in the night. After my small blue tent, sheltered by an oversized blue tarp, was set up and my gear unpacked, it soon began to feel like my home away from home.

Living in a tent for the summer was not to be a hard challenge for me. I enjoy the outdoors and camping and I was very comfortable in a tent. It made me feel like a child again, playing in my mothers kitchen with the dining room chairs and as many quilts and clothespins as I could find. Creating a place for myself to disappear from my siblings was a hobby of mine which would also develop my hidden talent for working with my hands. A talent for visualizing a craft and constructing it with my hands. This talent has now become the sole producer of my income.

Another challenge to the new staff was outdoor composting toilets. They were similar to an outhouse, only instead of a deep hole under a wooden seating area, there was a large tin garbage pail with a funnel in it. There was a place designated for urine and one for feces, this would be collected to create useful fertilizer for the would-be lawn here at A..P.A. At first the smell was not very noticeable, but I was sure that when the summer heat came so would its powerful odor.

The island had several yurts which are shelters constructed of wood poles and tarps assembled in an octagon shape that come to a point at the top and are built on a deck. There were two for visitors who needed a place for the night, and one which the staff had to themselves. The staff yurt was filled with leftovers from the guides who had come and gone in the past: the odd chair, stool, and air mattress were the comforts provided here for our days off and free time.

The only true luxury for this group of water lovers was the freedom to use the boats at anytime. Canoes, kayaks, and tandem kayaks were like candy to any paddler. We would take pleasure in this opportunity at every occasion, paddling before dinner and taking late evening tours of the area. Our meals, three times a day, were the largest benefit for the staff. They were cooked and served to us in the rugged lodge at the tip of the island. After meals we all participated in a rotating dish duty schedule and even took turns assisting the cook with preparations.

Walking into the lodge on my first day, I noticed that it consisted of a kitchen and dining room for all to use and then there were three double bed hotel-type rooms complete with their own personal washrooms. All were decorated with photos of the voyagers and maps from around the area on the walls. The kitchen and dining room were very cozy with their stone fireplaces which were always burning at that time of year.

I had been informed that in order to work here at A.P.A., all staff members were to complete the basic paddling courses in order to be a guide or assistant. I was excited to begin our days on the water and take in the view of the surrounding shores. We all participated in several courses which gave us our needed certificates and a chance to become better acquainted with one another. Many co-workers were like myself, searching for adventure in natures wonders while making an honest buck.

We were certified and re-certified during the next few weeks for first aid, basic canoeing, and basic kayaking. Those who were advanced went on to upgrade their badges for the next level. No matter your skill level, everyone had their share of time in the spring temperature water learning and honing their skills, as well as classroom discussions and scenarios. Any mistakes were considered learning opportunities, according to our instructors. No matter who ended up in the drink, we all laughed and learned from each others mishaps. This gave the much needed ice breaker for conversation that would produce comradery between all of the staff.

Names, names, names... so many faces to remember and names to keep straight. The returning staff from previous years were very warm and cheerful. The newcomers, like myself, were a little overwhelmed by all that had to be taken in. An equal amount of males to females was the final count for the beginning season but, at this time the females were out numbering the males.

Two weeks had passed and our courses were coming to a halt. Most of the staff had arrived to get settled into their summer positions. The last of the students introduced themselves, although for me, one staff member stood out -- like the beacon that stands alone in the mouth of the bay.

Right from the moment that I met her, I was drawn to her. With eyes greener then any countryside field in full season, and long blond locks that were playfully tied behind such a beautiful smile, her beauty didn't compare to any other that I had ever met. Her 5'6" delicate shape invited my eyes to sample her at every opportunity. She was thin with curves in all the right places. With a bubbly personality and open demeanor, she made anyone who encountered her feel as if they were at home. She, Danielle, was one of the last to arrive. She was a veteran here at A.P.A. and a student who was the store manager.

Being a nervous gal, upon our first meeting I began to demonstrate my safeguard instantly... sarcasm. Being a smart ass comes naturally to me. Standing there in my toque and blue rain jacket, I leaned against her desk and poked shots at this stunning beauty and her pet frog who lived in the small aquarium at the edge of her desk. Trying not to let it be known that I was nervous and felt vulnerable, my eyes drifted back and forth from the floor to the window which assisted in keeping my composure. As we chatted about the small things in life, it was revealed to me that she was not to be viewed in a romantic way. The diamond on her left hand had told me the abbreviated version of her story.

Leaving her to her business that day, I walked out of the building kicking myself. If I was shooting to be a jerk in her eyes, then mission accomplished. I am like a panther, getting my back up as soon as I feel out of place. Taking cheap shots at anyone elses expense was my way of feeling whole, and of course, diverting the attention to someone other than myself. This resulted in the awkward feeling of being unbalanced for them instead of me. For me, as soon as I am exposed to new grounds, this sarcastic nitwit would escape from within and control my words and actions. Slowly, but playfully, I would dismantle my company gently in such a manner as to benefit myself. This has been politely perceived as charm and wit.

Never before had I ever considered that people might not appreciate my defense mechanism.

My first encounter with this piece of eye candy was truly not a strong one for me, although she came out of it with flying colours as only could be expected from such a floating spirit. She smiled and laughed playfully with my dumb attempts to break the ice, which didn't save me from mentally scolding myself later that day.

People are always harder on themselves then anyone could ever be. It's funny that the moments we remember about ourselves are so much more devastating in our minds than that of others who have also witnessed the same event. These events are continually rehashed over and over in our minds when most people had already dismissed them as rapidly as they occurred. I am not most people since I constantly cause internal bruising to myself when such occasions are recalled.

Chapter 2

Spring continues to appear in Nossa, the tree's naked limbs start to take on a new colourful image, one which is far from the initial presentation I received at our first meeting. In truth, when I first arrived at A.P.A., I was disappointed with the atmosphere. The island was naked and dirty from the winter blanket. The trees had damaged limbs dangling, which were the end results of the wicked winter storms that occur here on the northeastern shores of Lake Superior. The ice had managed to travel from the shoreline right up to the lodge windows and damage the deck out front. In all truth, the island had taken a beating and needed a lot of elbow grease to get it back into shape.

This is where I came in. The staff followed my directions when it came to the site and the preparations for the spring and summer business. My "Honey-Do List" was long, ranging from painting the lodge, creatively organizing the kitchen space, patching the leak in the lodge roof, splitting fire wood, landscaping, and of course, preparing the boats for the upcoming season.

I began to develop platonic relationships with my co-workers through these various tasks. Some were off to a rocky start. Being under my supervision in the renovations of the lodge, these co-workers were not as equally interested in producing perfection as I was, thus bringing tension to our work environment and personal development. As for others, it was as if we were expired souls being reunited in another time and place. With these people I was able to connect on many levels as we shared dreams, goals, and experiences. All except this playful dame in the office.

I could not find a common ground for visiting with Danielle or a way in which to start a conversation, though I truly desired it. Maybe the reason for this lack of connection was that with every chance meeting, she would send my heart into a erratic rhythm that I could not control. Although I visually appeared to be healthy, beneath the surface of my chest, my heart pounded and thrashed. At times my hands shook with such excitement that I would have to place them out of view so as not to expose my sheer enjoyment at our chance meetings. My daily work did not bring Danielle and I together since the season had not yet begun. But in time I would be interacting with her on a daily basis, or so I was informed.

I have always struggled to conseal my soft side. I was raised to be a strong women who stands solid and for me to be out of control, as she would unknowingly cause, was like exposing a large decaying cavity in my chest. Something that if people had visual knowledge of, it would be determined as a gross strangeness and leave those unfortunate souls with a nauseating aftermath. Control was not to be relinquished nor my true self to be revealed. For in truth, I was not this tough-shelled hard ass who didn't seem to care what others thought of her, but more of an emotionally delicate flower who had a mushy warm side that only a chosen few knew of. I had to get on top of these unexpected physical abnormalities before they controlled me.

When two people initiate a friendship, sooner or later they come around to the personal side of getting to know each other. Playing the pronoun game, as poorly as I dared, was just delaying the inevitable. I was gay, there was no changing that fact. I was confident that as soon as my personal life was exposed I might not be as accepted in this small logging community or by my co-workers. I have been out of the closet for ten years and yet it is still a challenge every time I have to tell someone I am queer. I want people to know me for the person I am before they judge me on the fact that I enjoy the company of women. This is always hard to fit in to a conversion. "So a funny thing happened while I was going down on my girlfriend"... you can see it's a hard thing to fit in to a conversation when you want to return a friends sex story with one of your own. It just doesn't seem to have a comfortable spot... or maybe I am slightly too blunt.

The woman I was dating at the time was planning a trip up north to see me and it was in my best interest to come clean with my personal life so that this visit would not develop into an event. The truth needed to be said and any consequences that followed were to be dealt with. We had not seen each other in three weeks and there was no way that we could pull off the "we're just friends" routine.

Why do people always think of things in a worst case scenario? Do we do it to prepare ourselves for a fall or a final outcome that might not be truly desired? We all know that our imaginations are much more colourful and creative than real life, but does the end result always come out as a happier moment if we are thinking that the sky is about to fall upon us?

News traveled across the small island and all were accepting of my personal life, and understood that it was not a choice. For some, understanding that homosexuality is in our genes was a hard point to convey. To those I asked, "How did you know that you enjoyed the company of the opposite sex?". Most answered, "I just knew". I always replied, "Hey, me too, I always knew I liked girls".

(It's odd to think that this theory only works for the heterosexuals and not the homosexuals. They wonder how can we live our lives in this way? How can we admit our gayness knowing that society will frown upon us and that people will possibly shut their doors to us? To them, all they have to understand is that it would be far harder to pretend to be something you're not than to be true to yourself. Admitting that I was gay brought on a sense of self awareness, internal honesty, and comfort within to know that I am not crazy and the feelings I have are normal and most of all is that I was not alone.)

Telling my crush of my girlfriend was a difficult but exciting moment. Would she shun me? Would she be curious and excited? I stood in the lodge kitchen and explained to Danielle that I would require a room in the lodge on the weekend. Being bold, I just blurted out that my girlfriend was coming to visit me. I could not find the strength to met her eyes. To a point I even felt dirty. Danielle stumbled, carefully choosing her words with grace. I noticed that eye contact was not involved on her part and I was now understanding her view of my personal life. This was a subject that was new to her and was possibly too delicate to discuss.

The name of my arriving guest that I had been sharing with my new friends at A.P.A. was Sam. I never at any point lied to my co-workers or anyone who asked about my personal life. Sam was short for Samantha. I was just not as detailed about my partner as others were. It was revealed to me later that Danielle thought the word Sam was code and that I would use it when I would get child-like questions from others of "who was that?" after hanging up the phone. I laughed at this playful story and informed her that Samantha was her full name and that I had always referred to her as Sam. I smiled and praised her on her creative theory of my 'lifestyle" and we laugh at both of our attempts to be clever.

(Lifestyle.... why do people refer to it in that context? It's not a style. I didn't just get up one day and decide "Hey, I think I'm gonna be gay today. I hear it's the new thing to do and it might just look good on me". I also didn't do it to get a kick out of peoples reactions. I am gay, I feel a desire and calmness when in the company of a woman. For me it is self comfort, self pleasure, and pure self honesty. Not many people can say that they know themselves as well as I know myself. To know that you are gay and to be open about it is a power all on its own. No one can take that away no matter the number of slanders thrown your way.)

Sam's visiting day arrived quickly and nerves were at a high point on that day. As I clumsily introduced my partner to my fellow tree huggers, I noticed that I was having a problem with eye contact and basically relaxing. We stood in the lodge kitchen which was decorated with pine tongue and groove walls, a wood beam ceiling, and accented by a large island in the middle of the floor. There were pictures of former staff and group trips decorating the walls and a large picture window with a great view of the lake. From there you can see the tool shed which was my workshop and the rest of the site, including the owner's cabin.

Sam said her hello's and answered the basic question of "How was the trip up?". As she took her seat at the pine dining table, I could read from the reactions of the others that they are disturbed by the age difference between Sam and myself. She was fifteen years my senior and I had neglected to share this information with the others when describing her.

Then it hit me, right on time as always. Nervousness brings on my ability to overdo everything. The spot light shines upon me and brings everyone's attention to the centre stage while I transform into this multi-tasking clown who juggles fire blindfolded while dancing a jig, and sings an Irish drinking tune as my miniature goat circles around my heels ringing the bell attached to his collar. I bobble my words and clumsily pretend to be calm and cool, but the more I try the more evident it must be that I am uneasy with the situation at hand. I ran around the kitchen with my fellow staff members making snacks and coffee for Sam, changing the subject at every point possible. I never thought that I would have such a hard time being myself, but today it was a true challenge to find the real me.

I continued to be the ass that I am accustomed to being in these situations, and worried of the reality that the staff would now be facing. It's one thing to talk about being gay and having a girlfriend, but it is truly a different setting when two lesbians are standing in front of you preparing for a weekend retreat alone. What would be the outcome when Sam exited the scene and we all returned to work together on Monday? Would there be questions? Odd glances? Whispers behind my back?

We were saved by the call of the white water on the staff. They packed up their gear to test the wild waters leaving Sam and I to enjoy the island without disturbance. We spent that weekend touring the town, punctuated by romantic naps in my tent, taken so as to not be found by other guests staying at the lodge.

Not only was the staff exposed to new situations that weekend, I too experienced new sensations in the form of battery operated toys. On our last evening together, I was presented with Sam's new purchase. How could I have possibly kept a straight face during the moment of presentation? As I sat on the bed in the dimly lit suite, I wondered, "Why am I running this jack hammer when she could probably do it better alone?" This was not my idea of sharing myself but I was open to making her happy. I have always enjoyed being the cause of my lovers orgasms and have never required assistance in this area. To me, making love to someone with my body was a deep and passionate experience. Sharing myself with someone naked has always been an awkward situation. Revealing yourself whole and exposing all your imperfections is a stressful situation for me. I see myself as a woman caught in the body of a fourteen year old boy. No butt, no boobs, no hips -- this summed me up in my mind. Others have described me as a tall, thin beauty comparable to that of Helen Hunt. It's funny how we all view ourselves differently than others do. If only there were a magic pill that gave people confidence and acceptance of oneself.

Our weekend ended on a lovely sunny day as I drove Sam into town to retrieve the long- dreaded Greyhound Bus back to civilization. It was a sad ending to a wonderful weekend and I could not find the strength to hold back my tears on my drive out of town after saying goodbye to Sam. They disappeared as quickly as they had arrived when I returned to the island. No one was the wiser of my soft side.


Continued...



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