This is all because I don’t want to forget any of this.
I come home at night and get into bed with cookies, a bowl of pasta, or even sausages with perogies (and, no, that’s not a euphemism for something, even though it may sound that way). And yes, this is the part I want to remember. I want to remember that I have the best life. I don’t have to worry about crumbs in the bed, because, well, who cares? It’s my bed and they’re my crumbs!
I popped over to Alex’s place tonight for a quick visit, and we ended up down at the Cloak to meet two of our other friends. The first has such a way of making you feel special and important. She’s everything you would want in a sister. She’s smart, and funny, has great style, and she really adds life to any place at any time. The second is so meek, yet evil at the same time and he has such a way of telling stories that you could listen to him talk for hours. He also has the BEST beard in all of Toronto.
Of course I was looking for Jack, are you kidding me? I’m always looking.
Alex and I spent some time discussing my new motus operandi. Which is a new device called the “DateRapeTaserShoe”. You use your foot to taser your prey, and then you lead them out of the bar to get them to “safety”. No, that’s not really my m.o. I’m actually scared to write it, because if I write it, I’ll have to stick with it. Let’s give it a couple more days to see what happens. I’m doing well so far.
And now, the whole reason I’m writing tonight, and always, but especially tonight. I don’t want to forget how I’m feeling. My dear friend is moving from the house he has lived in for over 4 years. I’m so very sad that I can’t say a proper goodbye. It has always been important to me to say goodbye to the places I’ve lived. I want to say goodbye to the place where I’d stumble to drunk in the middle of the night. To the place where I left chocolates and brought balloons. To the place where I danced drunk after an Easter Egg hunt. To the place I called home. To the place where my heart was broken over and over again yet where I felt safe and happy. To the place where I was loved. The last place I was loved.
I know that I never lived there and that all of these things have nothing to do with 30 Roxton Road , but rather the person that lived there. It was him that made me feel those things and made those things happen. I’m sure in the future, he will be a part of my life, even if just vaguely….but for now I need to say goodbye. He’s not going far, he’s actually moving closer, but I’m no longer chasing things I cannot get. It’s a fruitless and heartbreaking effort. And frankly, I’ve had enough of that.