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June 7 2023, PA Route 74 to Duncannon PA:
Today, Voodoo and I hitchhiked down south to Route 74 and slack-packed back up to Duncannon. Along the walk, Voodoo carved our names into a tree under another couples’ initials.
We took a side trail to Darlington Shelter and upon walking into the area, we saw a couple of black snakes emerging out of a tree trunk hole and sun bathing on the bark. They looked like a married snake couple. I observed them for a long while, finding awe and fascination in their leathery appearance.
Then, Voodoo and I found a blue tarp, so we made a barricade in the corner of the shelter as we fucked. Shortly after, Pusher made an appearance. He made a sly comment to me about my nipples growing erect when I saw him and that I wasn’t able to hide my naughty smile.
Later in the walk, I had brought it up to Voodoo which apparently caused him to grow really upset. He went off on a stringent of thoughts about how Pusher wasn’t allowed to be talking about my tits like that and how I should be more angry. I noticed a tendency within myself to start drama. It was a rare occurrence and I noticed it was simply when I felt I desired attention. I guess it was a subconscious way of letting Voodoo know that I had other options, yet it didn’t feel good in my energy field when I intentionally tried to make him jealous.
The majority of the hike was really hazey and I didn’t see much. It seemed to be there was a fire in the distance. I didn’t mind, however. I always enjoyed the effect that wildfires gave. It reminded me I was living in a dream.
As we were walking back into town, we saw a sign that said the church was offering hikers a free dinner!
We made it almost an hour late, but as we were walking in, one of the volunteers greeted us and said, “We’ve been waiting for you.”
We felt so welcomed. They had made spaghetti, pastries and offered other things such as toiletries and notebooks. They even wrote us a blessing/prayer to take with us along our journeys.
It was wholesome to sit with the other hikers and enjoy a meal, yet I noticed I felt tense and introverted. Pusher was nearby and everything felt so dramatic and awkward. Of course, I was making it that way, but it felt like a wake up call for my mind.
At one point Pusher confronted Voodoo and asked if he wanted to talk things out, to which Voodoo puffed out his chest and yelled, “No! I don’t have anything to say to you, bro. And I don’t care what you have to say to me!”
The ego part of my mind wanted to see them get into a physical fight, but my heart wanted them to get along and let the funky, lingering energy dissipate. It had me thinking about if I wanted to continue playing games of making drama with those around me, because in the end I was the one that ended up feeling most uncomfortable. Deep down my heart desired to be friends with my brothers and sisters and to live in harmony. The patterns started with me and in the end, it was up to me to take full responsibility.
As we were walking back to the church, we ran into another thru-hiker name Manimal. He had been married for 30 years and seemed to light up anytime he spoke about his wife. I asked if he knew she was the one and without hesitation, he said yes. I perched up on the stone ledge while Voodoo stood next to me, hugged me and said he was going to marry me. I didn’t feel that feeling the man spoke of—feelings of Voodoo being “the one.”
Manimal said he had dated a lot of women and he felt grateful for the experiences he shared with them, but that he never felt the way he did in comparison with his wife.
“What’s the secret?” I asked.
“Brutally honest raw communication,” he said, “it’s so important to be honest, because then you’ll know if that person actually loves you for you rather than some image you made.”
I sat with that and thought about how much I wanted to tell Voodoo that I needed to have the freedom to fuck other men. I wanted him to know that no matter how much and how often he fucked me that I would still have wandering eyes.
Voodoo held me close and asked, “What’s the worst that can happen if you’ll be brutally honest with me? You’ll find out I wasn’t the guy for you?”
I sat with that, too. He was right. It was an irrational fear to have—to be afraid of communicating what was on my heart. If anything, it would cut to the chase quicker and both of us could move on and accept it for what it was.