Satsuma

Nothing in life is to be feared, it is only to be understood. Now is the time to understand more, so that we may fear less.

Marie Curie

I've never really been a fan of the funfair.

Don't get me wrong, I like to go for atmospheric purposes, I just can't go on the rides.

There's something inside me that clams up whenever I get close to the turnstile, or when I stand underneath the track of a rollercoaster and the cart runs over my head. I suddenly get this feeling inside my throat, and it becomes difficult to swallow, like when you don't want to cry at the movies, in case everyone thinks your being too sappy and you're holding the sobs back, forming an imaginary lump in your windpipe.

I don't know what causes it, and I sure as hell don't know how to stop it either.

I think it might have something to do with not knowing what's going to happen directly in the future. Like, fear of the unknown. For all I know, the cart could malfunction and fall off the track when I happen to be riding it, and I know it sounds stupid because they check and double check the rides before the park even opens. But still, that fear engulfs me and prevents me from actually going on the ride.

But I always want to go on, I just don't. I watch from the sidelines, smiling at my friends as they whiz past me, when inside I'm crushed that I couldn't overcome my fears enough to join them. I hate having to pretend you're okay with a situation, when really you're not. And I'm not talking just about fairgrounds either; I'm talking about life in general terms.

I'll admit it; I'm one of those people who are scared of the future. I fear what lies ahead, and it's become more of a phobia as the years have worn on. It think it started when I was thirteen and my Mom died. Instantly, I became troubled and apprehensive about the future. I didn't want to grow up without my Mom, without her guidance and expertise, so I was scared. Add to that, my dad was a felon and the only female in my life was my sister who I argued with, so you can envisage what my pre-teen life was like.

I guess I got through life alright; I managed to accomplish everything I ever wanted. I made my sister proud of me, but there's always been something missing and I can't seem to fill the gap it's created either. I know why the gap is there and I know who the gap is for, but letting that person in is a different matter all together.

My life links together far too much, and I'm unsure of whether I like it or not. The man I love, loves me back but I can't let him into my life to fill the gap because I'm scared. See how everything relates to one another? I know what I have to do, but whenever I try, I'm instantly transported to my mother's bedside, begging her not to leave me and I freeze, letting nobody past the wall I've built around myself, for fear of hurting as much as I did back then.

If I don't let anyone in, I won't have a chance to lose them, so I don't need to fear losing anyone again. But I have something else to fear instead.

Loneliness.

I'm not alone in my life. I have friends, lots of them, and there's never a dull moment when I'm with them. I just lonely in a way that there's only one person suitable to fill this vast emptiness when I sit at home on the computer, or when I'm making pancakes or sleeping on the couch. I just won't allow myself the luxury of having him, and that's the problem.

When I was younger and Bessie made me eat a piece of fruit, I would always pick a Satsuma. I would try my hardest to peel the skin of in one go, in a way so that when you held it up, it would look like an elephant's ears and trunk. I used to believe if I could do it, then it would mean I didn't have to be scared anymore and that everything would be alright. I know they don't correlate in any way, shape, or form, but it was something I'd grown accustomed to doing whenever I had a decision to make.

There was this one time when I needed to decide whether to go to Dawson's for 'movie night', or stay at home because Bessie wasn't feeling too well. And at the time, I was playing with a ball, so I decided if I could kick the ball higher than our house, I would go to Dawson's and if I couldn't, I would stay home with Bessie. I ended up staying home.

And to this day, I've never managed to peel a Satsuma in one go. The skin always breaks off into little pieces, and I end up feeling a little more scared than before.

And a little lonelier too.

This is the first time I've been back in Capeside for a while. I always manage to put it off with one lame excuse after the other. It's not that I don't like it here, it's just every time I'm here I'm reminded of my past and why I became so scared of the future in the first place. Which of course sets of a chain of memories, each one more vivid than the last and then I begin to wish I was braver, and more daring in certain situations. Mainly situations regarding Pacey, and our relationship. Or Dawson, and our relationship.

I have regrets regarding both of those relationships. I regret not being strong enough to tell Dawson to let me make my own decisions, instead of forcing me to make choices suitable to his acquired taste. I regret not going to Paris when I first had the chance. Even though he told me it would be alright to go, I still knew deep down, that's not how he really felt, so I stayed. I regret kissing him before I went to college, causing a game of chase to begin for the following year. I regret sleeping with him because someone else was involved against my knowledge, and I hate him for not telling me about Natasha.

With Pacey, I regret not telling Dawson about us when we first got together. I regret lying to Dawson about us sleeping together because I only hurt Pacey in the process. I regret walking away from him, leaving him standing in the middle of a dance floor to go to someone who lied to me.

Most of all, I regret not being able to peel a Satsuma in one go. Because that's the only reason I left Pacey for Eddie, because I knew it would never last between us and I wasn't worried about losing him, but with Pacey our relationship runs so deep, every time I got a little too close to him, I'd run away because I was too scared.

But you know what the funny thing is, he would always follow me. I thought by running away to Paris, leaving Dawson and Pacey to make up, I'd leave all thoughts of Pacey behind , but how wrong I was. Because they followed me, haunted me, eerily taking over any chance I had of surviving without him, without his love and his friendship. But that's where I drew the short straw in life, because that was the exact reason I caught the plane, I was scared of his love and his friendship.

His overwhelming love for me might have been lost as I crossed the ocean, but the memories must have caught the next plane, because as soon as I stepped foot on foreign soil, I was consumed with nothing but the reminiscence of his touch, the recollection of his voice and the loneliness I was going to be surrounded with my entire stay.

But it was all my fault and I can't stop blaming myself for the distance put between us, both physically and metaphorically.

I can't understand why everything in my life is a contradiction. I believed my time in Paris would help me find myself, but deep down, I already knew who I was and who I was supposed to be with. That intangible, indescribable knowledge is drilled deep into my brain, written on my skin, it tells me what to do. It tells me to run, and I listen. I'm being commanded, not by my brain, but by a motion. A motion that sweeps in as soon as someone comes to close. Too close for me to stay.

I think I'd be lying if I said I was happy.

I like my job as a book editor, it's what I've always wanted to do. And I like the company I keep, but Jen's heavily pregnant, so most of the time we hang out we're reading baby magazines or self help books. I don't mind, but it always reminds me of something I don't have, and it's not the baby, it's knowing I don't have anyone who I could share the experience with.

I suppose I could have shared the experience with Christopher, he was an author and I met him when I was his editor. We broke up a few weeks ago, not because I didn't love him, but because I did. Just not in the right way.

And he wasn't Pacey.

Christopher took it well when we broke up because I think he already knew I was in love with someone else. I know I hurt him, but I couldn't lie to him and I couldn't lie to myself any more.

My invitation for Gale' wedding came through the post very soon after the break up, and in the instant I opened it I knew I had done the right thing. It was just a momentary feeling of relief, but it was quickly replaced with the familiar feeling of loneliness and fear of what the future held for me.

I knew I needed a break from work, and New York City, and Gale's wedding was the perfect excuse to go back to Capeside for a vacation. I had three weeks annual leave from work, so I decided to take it all in one go, starting the following week, which is now. I've only been here a few hours, choosing only to say a quick hello to Bessie, before making my trademark lame excuses and taking a walk.

Every summer, Capeside holds the annual Carnival. It's a mix of fairground rides and games to play and it used to be tradition for the whole 'gang' to go together. Obviously, due to geographic purposes and what not, some of us were unable to continue the tradition. But Pacey and Jack both live and work in Capeside, so I half wondered whether they still went.

I suppose that's why I'm sitting on a bench in the middle of the Carnival watching the Waltzers spinning around and around. A multitude of bright, intense spray painted metal spins and with each twirl it takes, I fear the future a little more. I watch the children laughing as the controller spins them faster, until soon all I can see is a mix of faces, their expressions unreadable as they whiz past me time after time.

I watch one boy in particular as the next batch of children are allowed on. He's young, maybe only ten years old and I can tell he's scared. His eyes are watery and he's clutching this red t-shirt in bunches at the bottom, but he's facing his fear, he's being brave. I smile towards him, he can't see me though because he's turning around, trying to find his mother in the sea of people waiting. But then I see it, the corner of his lips turn up as he spots her and he does it, he overcomes his panic and gets into a cart.

My smile soon fades though because I realise he hasn't come. It looks like the tradition has been dead and buried. I can't blame him though, running a restaurant is hard work and I doubt I'd come if no one else was.

I don't know why, but I always expected Pacey to be the type to carry on our little tradition. To me, he's Capeside's Peter Pan, the boy who never grew up. His smile, ever so mischievous with that slight sarcastic twist to it, always made me think of Macualy Caulkin as Kevin McAllister in Home Alone. It's been a while since I've seen him smile; in fact it's been a while since I've seen him at all and I regret that too, it can be added to my list.

I smile as I watch the little boy get off the ride and run straight to his mother. I think that's what I've done today. I came straight here hoping to run into Pacey, who is the next best thing to my mom and Bessie. He knows me and understands me, better than I know and understand myself.

Thinking back, I don't think I told him I loved him enough. My thoughts were screaming it every minute, but the words were lost between us, perhaps buried beneath my own insecurities. Pacey isn't stupid or worthless, he's quite the opposite, but people don't tell him enough. I know I didn't and I regret that too.

But look at Pacey now, he's overcome his insecurities, running a successful business, proving everyone wrong, but not me. I always knew he could do it, I just wish I was there with him, to hear about tiresome customers, the big tippers, waitresses messing orders up.

I suppose it's okay to talk about doing it, but when it comes down to it, I've never seized the moment. I've had the opportunities, plenty of them, but each time, I've chosen to run in the opposite direction. I assume that makes me a coward and I think that's the worst label anyone can have.

I want to cry, because that's what I do when I'm unhappy, but I can't. The lump in my throat is preventing me from doing so. I close my eyes and try to imagine what my life would be like if I hadn't left Pacey standing on the dance floor. All I can come up with is an even bigger lump in my throat. I squeeze them shut tighter until all I can see is little colourful dots swimming around in a sea of black, it's like my own personal Matrix.

"Did you know that a Satsuma has an average of 1.5 seeds per fruit?"

My eyes fly open and I look down to the peeled Satsuma in my hand.

"Really," I say.

"Really." And he smiles at me, that mischievous grin I was talking about.

"Always full of useless information, aren't we?"

"It's what I do best."

"I didn't think you were going to be here," I tell him.

"There has to be someone to keep the tradition alive."

"Trust you, Pace." I smile and I see his eyes shift down towards the Satsuma I'm holding in one hand and the peel in the other.

"I've never been able to do that, you know."

"What's that?"

"Peel a Satsuma in one go."

"Nor me, till now."

I watch him as he offers his hand out to me. "Fancy a ride?"

I used to hit every wall there was
I used to run away from love
All I ever wanted was right here
But I had to reach way down inside
I had to have faith I'd find
No fear

I look down at the peel and I take his hand "Why not?"

As we walk towards the roundabout, I don't let go of his hand, and he holds tightly to mine. And although I've still got the familiar lump in may throat, I know everything's going to be alright because he's here with me. I know it's going to take a long time for us to get back to where we were, but I'm willing to try and I'm willing to wait.

"Jo?"

"Hmm,"

"Are you going to eat that Satsuma, because I'm starving?"

Song Terri Clarke No Fear