A Bachelors Diary Episode 6: Marrakesh Musings Part 2

Ok so this is my Coles Notes on Ep 6 in Marrakesh continued. I decided to split this blog up into two parts because we all know the average attention span is shorter than:

1. The list of guys left on this show

2. Jasmine standing next to Kyle #tenfeetofKyle

3. Wale standing next to Kyle 

4. Basically any human being on earth standing next to Kyle

5. You've already stopped reading this haven't you?

Anyways, the main reason I separated this blog into two parts is because this is the heavier of things that is on my mind. Not the fluff but instead the feels and not a lot of funny. So if you're still looking for laughs, here's me doing......whatever this is: 

Ok. Now that we've established that I shouldn't be taken too seriously, let's tear me apart in the most brutal of fashions. 


First off, here's the episode on for your viewing pleasure. Complete with a lovely background of jungle animals because...... the internet?

Skip ahead to 43:00 for our talk on our group date and 53:50 for our talk at the rose ceremony.

Feeling The Heat

When we left Quebec, I was very happy to get back on the road and explore Morocco as these days, I feel more at home out of a backpack than I do in my home country. There's an unfortunate truth that comes with a life on the road:
You can't go home again 
From the moment we landed, Marrakech did not disappoint. It's a beautiful, interesting hub of activity and a real melting pot of culture. So rich in colours, textures and flavours and it felt so good to be there. However, with that excitement of being somewhere new also came an entirely different feeling. By the time we got to our riad it was very clear to me that this was no longer just a fun little experience to take as it came but was now getting much more serious and the pressure was on with hometown dates around the corner. Not something I took lightly.
While my time with Jasmine had always felt right when we were together, it had been a long time since we had actually sat down and really connected. I was seriously beginning to feel disconnected from her, not to mention overwhelmed by the whole process. Having a camera in your face 24/7 takes a toll and watching the episodes now I can actually see the stress on my face. I was burnt out and at a crossroads. One road leading to Jas and one leading me to potentially never seeing her again.

In the past, I've usually tried to avoid long distance relationships and yet somehow, I was travelling with Jasmine while oddly feeling like I was in a long distance relationship with her at the same time. It felt backwards. How are you supposed to maintain a connection with someone you barely see? Then, seeing her relationships with the other guys move along while mine seemingly stood still only made things feel worse. Remember that these were the very same guys I was befriending and talking to about everything so it was hard to know who to trust and what was real. They were the only people I could to talk to during the filming so we all became really close despite us all dating the same girl. To say it was a weird situation doesn't even begin....
And yes, sure there was a feeling of competition (more so with some of other guys) but I've never been one to feel the need to go down that road. I had no desire to "win" or get roses. It's just that I knew that Jasmine and I could very well have something real and I really wanted to know what that was. I had to find out for sure....instead of going home to spend the rest of my life wondering if I let love slip me by.
That lingering question:
Who was this girl in front of me?

A Guarded Heart

In the past, I've written about 
The mall cop that guards my heart shaped box

His presence in my life was born in my youth in a time of need (more on that later) but had come to be a burden in my relationships as an adult. I've fought a lot battles with him and that was part of the reason why I said yes to maybe and did this show. I knew it would take something bigger than me to help knock down these no longer useful walls of old. By putting it out there for the world to see I wouldn't be able to hide from it anymore. I wouldn't be able to hide my fear of letting people in under the romanticism of travel life anymore. One of the inconveniently harsh truths I've learned about myself while on the road is that my travels have masked some selfishness. Not a fun realization to make and it's been something I've been working hard to face head on. Another is that part of me just feels more at peace when I'm alone and that it's just in my nature to be a bit of a lone wolf.
There's a certain kind of peace that comes in solitude
While I can accept that as part of what makes me who I am, part of me knows that there was also definitely something unhealthy hiding in that push to push away.

With Jasmine, one thing I noticed was that as much as I was guarded, she didn't seem thrown off by it. It felt like she saw past it as being just part of who I was. In fact, it calmed me to see how calm she was in the face of it, as if her quiet acceptance of it was proof that she related and felt somewhat the same way. Like we were
Two wandering wolves meeting in the woods.
The woods of Marrakesh that is;)
I related to Jasmine in more ways than I should considering how little we talked. There was just this unspoken understanding between us. A look in the eye. A feeling underneath it all. For some reason it just felt like we somehow knew each other before meeting. Even that first night when I sang to her outside the limo, I felt like I recognized her even though I knew we had never met. Outside the show it turns out that we walked in very close circles but never actually crossed paths. Jasmine it seems, just came with a familiar feeling. There really is something special about that girl....

So I struggled with opening up and letting her in and no doubt part of that was my own bullshit but in all honesty I knew it was something more than that. A big part of my reservations lay in that we were doing this on a reality TV show..... and I know what you're thinking, "You signed up for this! What were you expecting?" and yes that is very much true but until you've been through something like this, I would kindly ask you to reserve your judgment. Because you really have no idea.....
Now I won't sit here and go off about all the things I struggled with regarding the process of the show as it would be disrespectful to the people that worked tremendously hard to make it a reality. That team of people were amazing and I'm very glad to have gone down this road with them. They took great effort to take care of us during this adventure. It's just that knowing it was a TV show unfortunately poked the old fires of distrust that were already in my heart from days of past.
I've always considered truth the most important currency and in my life I've looked for Truth Before Happiness

So part of my reservations with Jas were tied up in my fears that what if this was all for show? What if it wasn't real? Those kinds of fears where a big part of what made me want to pull away. Having a camera in your face while trying to let down your guard isn't an easy thing to do. So when I said I wish I had met her in a coffee shop, I really meant it.
But that just wasn't the path that brought us together and I couldn't help but wonder; would it be the one that pulled us apart or the one that finally pushed me past myself and towards her?




Time To Get Past The Past

Knowing that home town dates where around the corner, I knew I had some decisions to make. I didn't want to bring my family into this unless I was absolutely certain Jas and I were going to make a real go of this outside of the show. I'm protective of my family life and while the thought of them on National TV is somewhat comical....... it's mostly just utterly terrifying (except for my amazing little nieces because they would totally kill it with cuteness). My family back story isn't one I tell often and while I'm willing to have that conversation in the right situation; I was hesitant to just throw that out there for TV entertainment with no control as to how it would be told. Still though, I knew Jasmine would need to know about that part of my life for us to move forward and during our talk at the rose ceremony I alluded to this.

Growing up, I had a childhood that came with both  Love and Loss and both were certainly early lessons that changed the trajectory of my life. In the past I've written about what it was like growing up with a mom fighting addiction and I chose to write about it in the hopes that by putting it out there I could move past it and find peace with it. There's something cathartic about writing what you feel you can't say. There's a release in penning it down and putting it out there that let's you stop carrying it with you...... which is I guess what this is. And while I'm nervous to include these writings in this post, I think the truth is needed here..... but before we dive any deeper down that rabbit hole and hijack this post in that retelling, I'll just include the above link that tells the tale and this one below about how it's affected  my adult life.

Running for home 

Like I said to Jas that night; there's going to be good things and there's going to be bad things as you get to know me and the truth is; you get both.


The 11th Hour Kiss

Before we end this already far too feely and drawn out post, I guess I should stop delaying the inevitable and finally get to that kiss. The kiss heard around the riad. How appropriate that it almost took me longer to get to it in this post then it took to happen on the show. What can I say? I've always been something of a pleasure delayer and tend to leave the best for last. As a kid, I always liked Christmas Eve more than Christmas and I used to keep a present unopened under the tree (much to my family's annoyance) so as to keep something there to look forward to. To hold on to that feeling that it could be anything.
For me,
        Anticipation was always the real gift
The wonderment of what might be. Surely that played apart of why I waited with Jas but more so, I wanted to be sure of who she was before going down that road. Knowing who someone is makes it so much more enjoyable and natural to me. Plus, I am basically the reembodied spirit animal of a turtle and make moves at about that same speed when it's someone I really like.  #40yearoldvirginisalmostmybiography. I've just never been one to rush and anyone who's ever seen me eat knows this well. #canigetthistogo?#awkwardfirstdates

It's not to say I didn't want to kiss her before that night. Jasmine is smart, funny and beautiful and I wanted to kiss her all the way back in Jamaica. I just wanted to know more about her before I did. Too often in the past I have found myself dating someone who I thought I really connected with only to later on realize that I was lost in the fog of attraction. This time, I wanted to make sure it was substance over style and not the other way around.

Lastly, before we go, I will say this: it's very easy to look ahead and after my time with Jasmine on that rose ceremony I couldn't help but wonder. Yet even as I did, my ever constant security guard reminded me that it's a very dangerous thing to do. Either way, I know this:
We don't get to chose what comes tomorrow. But we do get to chose what we do today and looking back on that night in Morocco I am glad that I made the decision to let down my guard and let her in to see me for who I am.


Oh and one last thing: That day at the riad while sitting in the sun before the ceremony, I wrote a song that about all of this and so last night I recorded it (mistakes and all) as I figured it should be part of this post. In my head, it should be Eddie Vedder singing it..... but I guess you're stuck with me.
Check it out below.
Thanks for reading my friends:)
With truth and love,
K

She's got the look

"What are you looking at?" she says.

Shit.

"Um, what?" I say.

"You look zoned out. Are you listening to me?"







Definitely wasn't listening.
Where am I again?







Riiiight. The non-date.
She, is the woman sitting across from me and between us there are two not deep enough glasses of pricey vino as we soak in tonights artificially antiqued ambience. The restaurant is a brand new, rustic looking place with expensive, dilapidated driftwood type chairs. The kind of place where they say things like "tapas" and "a la carte" instead of saying things like "expensive" and "get ready to still be hungry".
Regardless, I came here for what I smoothly thought was a date....and she thought was........well, not that anyways.

Good times. Not awkward at all.

"My boyfriends obsessed with this dish!' She said while looking at the menu.

Now THAT part I definitely heard.
She orderers the duck a la orange. With sides.

Separate checks it is.

"Kevin! WTF?"
I scramble.
"TOTALLY!" I say. "I'm listening. Sorry, long day. Go on."

Her eyes judge me for an awkward moment before either finding what she's looking for or not really caring enough to see it for the blatant lie that it "TOTALLY" was. Either way, she's back to talking and I'm back to daydreaming.

Daydreaming about her.


I know. It's the classic cliche that guys never listen but tonight I just can't seem to help it. I really do want to listen but something keeps distracting me. Her story about (insert something no guy would ever find interesting here) .........was great.
Really good stuff.

But all I could think of was one thing:

This is the most beautiful women I have ever met in my life.

So let's go get sidetracked in that for a moment...

Have you ever met someone who was so attractive it stopped you in your tracks? Someone that redefined your parameters of what beauty is? Someone who was so stunning that it actually worried you how powerless you were around them? A person so entrancing that they had the ability to kryptonite the part of your brain that controls things like speech and reason?

Well I definitely have and she's sitting across from me right now...blinding me like Miss South Carolina staring into AC Slaters never-aging dimples.

Nailed it.




Ok, so to put her in perspective, let me sell you on how painfully beautiful this woman is:
She is amazing and fantastic.



In fact, she's so fantastic that she actually sued that cleaning spray called Fantastic for copyright infringement. And won.

True story.

Not a true story.

She is so beautiful that the radio stations of my mind have all been take over by a emergency broadcast of the same breaking story:

This woman is made of heaven and you need to make her love you back.

She is what little baby angels want to be when they grow up.

She's so beautiful that when cupid has wet dreams, it's HER he's dreaming of.

Every lovey dovey Halmark card ever bought was written by me and it was for this women.

Sold yet? 

Anyways, I could go on about her...... and apparently, so could she because she's gone back to talking about....something, but like before, I got nothing. She's Helen Keller'd me before I ever hear any of it.

It is a shame though. I want to pay attention to what she's saying. I want to know who I'm sitting across from on this non-date. I really do but her beauty is just too fucking loud. Front row, no one understands me like Dubstep!!! kind of loud. Her kind of beauty is so loud that it over powers anything she says.
And It probably always has. 

Which is a funny thing to think about. Can you imagine what it would be like to have people always there listening to you but never hearing any of it? Eagerly wanting to be around you but not bothering to get to know you? That no matter what you said, people would nod and agree like drooling Fox news anchors interviewing a republican.

Come to think of it...... maybe this is a good time to check if I'm drooling. 

Nope. No drool means we're good to go so I throw in another "TOTALLY", order another glasses of wine I can't afford and go back to daydreaming about the dream girl sitting in front of me.

What's bark made of?

Which is exactly the problem. I'm dreaming of a girl that's sitting here with me instead of being present and in the moment with her. I'm painting an image of what I want her to be in my head Vanilla Sky style instead of seeing her for who she really is right here in real life.
Painting broad strokes over the finer details of her character.

So when I say she's scary beautiful, I mean it when I say scary (and not in a Scary Spice kind of way..... although she's alright too I guess. Each to their own. I personally was always more of a fan of Baby Spice. Total knockout in 2 become 1. Def my fave)
Where was I?
Oh ya...scary in that it's scary that someone could render my brain so completely useless. That someone can shrink my brainbox to the size of a Hong Kong apartment. That no matter what comes out of her mouth, I'll TOTALLY agree and think she's amazing. She has me at her beck and call for the rest of her life kind of beauty.
Want me to carry your new friends carry on bag through security? No prob.
Need help making signs for your big West Borrow Church rally tomorrow? Sure thing.
I'm cool like that Baby Spice. I gotcha.
She could burn my house down into a pile of smouldering ashes (also known as a Lisa "Left Eye" Lopez breakup) and when the cops came to arrest her I would tell them "You guys just don't get her like I do."

She's a bit of a firecracker.

So maybe this is why we all have that one friend, who for the most part seems like a smart, logical person.......who's somehow paired up with the spawn of satan incarnate.

We all know the story: Your buddy introduces you to his new girl and her handshake is so cold and limp that you worry that he met her at the Pet Sematary. She spews icy, venomous looks your way and scares the local wildlife south months early, but in your buddies eyes she's everything he's ever wanted. Remember that movie Saving Silverman? Well it's like that but with less fat funny guy spilling nachos everywhere:

*Side note
  Steve Zahn: still hilarious for some reason.




So what's going on here? It's clear that there's a disconnect somewhere in how we see each other. That we can become so enamoured by our painted perception of someone that we become unable to see them for who they really are.
Like for example, this horrible human being.
If the majority of marriages end in divorce (because Dr. Phil wouldn't lie would he?) then surely it's not that ALL of these people were all making a rash, foolish KFed-esque mistake but that they genuinely believed that they had found the Ross to their Rachel.
Or should I say "Brangelina"?






I hate that I know this shit.







Have you ever stopped to wonder what's the point of seeing someone as attractive? What purpose does it serve? How is it that we we judge each other for the shape of our faces when we have absolutely no ability to control those features in the first place? How does it make any sense whatsoever that who we spend our time with be based on their beauty?!

"Well, ya she treats me like shit in front of company but you should see her ass dimples in a bikini. TOTALLY worth it."





Ya. Totally.

Picking a spouse based on looks is like picking a car based on the colour.

Sure, it's true that looks are merely part of a much bigger equation. There's obviously more to it then just physical attraction, because if someone is stupid you're likely to get sick of them pretty quick.....but likely is the key word in that sentence. Sometimes beauty overrides our bullshit detector when we're not paying attention and while we would all like to believe it doesn't happen to us; we may be lying to ourselves.
Like when we eat fat free frozen yoghurt and say it's ok.
It's not ok people. That shit is pure street crack.
When it comes to the topic of looks, It's kind of like when people say: Dance like no one is watching.
Sure, it sounds like a nice idea worth a like or two on Facebook but in reality; we all secretly want to look at least a little cool while dancing.






And besides;  YOU try keeping calm when you have this woman giving'er like no one's watching.
In front of your kids.
Who are DEFINITELY watching.

So we care about looks. It's inescapable. But how and why did this happen? Are we all that superficial? Or is it just genetic? Is it simply in our human nature? Built into our DNA from a time long passed? How would looks have played a part in our pre-instagram, hunter gathering days?
How would chiseled features and a good jaw line have benefited Encino Man on his hunt for more wooly mammoth jerky?

I still love you Topanga

Then again could it be a more recent phenomenon in human history? An appreciation for the "finer physical qualities of a partner" that came with an exploding population increase thus leading to an increase in mating choice? Back when people were few and far between I'm sure we were much less picky eaters.
Mostly though, I'm inclined to think it's a mix of both. Likely, we have a predisposition to physical attraction that has been dramatically amplified by a skin deep pop culture. Perhaps we can chalk it up to the years of subliminal messages from advertisements screaming for our attention during a childhood raised on marshmallow crack-cereal and TGIF.
Maybe our deep-rooted love affair with eyeballing purdy looking people is the end result of a lifetime of ads being crammed into our faces.
Whatever it is, we just can't seem to help being attracted to good looking people.

It's undeniable that we celebrate people we find gorgeous; sometimes, being balls-out obvious about it.

Witty check under the hood/my underpants joke here

Painted on abs: the hottest trend in war paint

But many times it's more insidious as we think we celebrate someone for their (artistic, poetic, heartfelt, orwhateverbullshityoucomeupwith) ways........ and it just so HAPPENS that they are nice to look at.

Riiiight. and Anna Kornikova stayed in the headlines for her really swell serve.

So it can make you wonder: what accomplishments are my own? Which ones did I actually earn based on my hard work and merit and which did I earn based on the genetic lottery of how I look?
Who earned it more? This guy:

Or this guy:

Sad doesn't begin....

Both achieved success most could only dream of. Both have been celebrated for their wide range of work and both have my utmost respect for what they are able to do onscreen (Cruise haters be damned).... but which one worked harder to earn it? Which one had the tougher path? Which was sure to play the good guy?

Don't tell me you don't know.

Hoffman's tragic too-early death is surely telling of a man that went through a rough, inner battle in his life. Of that there's no doubt, but don't confuse me for condoning drug use just because the guy wasn't typically attractive. That's obviously a TJ Mackey sized load of bullshit. Lots of people have amazing success despite, shall we say "less than conventional" good looks...... but could you imagine Tom Cruise being a depressed closet heroine user?

I think we can all agree that he doesn't fit that role. Slightly crazy, sure but not someone who's reaching for the razors. Which just goes to show that as ugly as it is; we can't help but associate good looking people with success. Hence why we buy garbage we don't need from so-called beautiful people.

The question then is who would you rather be? The man who had to work exponentially harder to get it or the man who will always question if he truly earned it?
Either way, both have their battles and both are battles that wouldn't exist if our world weren't hijacked by something as superficial as skin deep beauty.
Years spent working as a model have shown me a really ugly side of pretty. Watching supposedly gorgeous people carry themselves with a sense of entitlement based solely on something they played no part whatsoever in creating... and then seeing others celebrate them for it has left me with a low-level loathing for it all.
It's convinced me that we would be a lot better off without the whole aesthetic thing. I believe attraction hides our real selves not only from each other but from ourselves. When you look in the mirror and see something looking back at you that the world is willing to praise; it becomes very easy to sit back, relax and let it in instead of building on ones character. Conversely, when you see the mirror looking back at you with a plain or uncelebrated look; how does one separate that from who they are on the inside?
Good luck not internalizing a lifetime of that.
Yes, physical beauty can be nice to appreciate and fun get lost in but ultimately; I believe it is a fog that blinds us from the inner importance of who we are. It has our souls driving racing cars blindly past each other. Some shiny and some rusted. It is a mask that hides from us the deeper beauty that lies in those all around us. Instead of seeing people solely for quality of their character, we become focussed on......



Other assets.

"I hear they're low on underwear too"

Thinking of all this makes me wonder how many people I would've loved but never gave a second thought based on them "not being my type". It makes me wonder how much time I've spent on people I found attractive but couldn't see I had little in common with......and vice versa: How many of my friends enjoy my company for who I am without my looks playing a hidden factor.
An unattractive thought to say the least.


Mostly pertinently though, right here and now it's making me wonder what I'm doing in this overpriced restaurant.
Have I wasted my time sitting here not paying attention to the beautiful, stunning stranger in front of me?



The answer:









Totally.