yellow leaves

Because this song is beautiful and what I imagine nostalgia to sound like, and because it's been exactly one year since I roamed this city for the perfect pieces to complete a perfect costume in the hopes of restoring a perfect love. I wanted to be his personal superhero and I felt I was when he turned to me on the walk home and asked "What should we dress up as next year?" like it was the most simple question because of course there would be a next year, and a next year after that, and another next next next always and forever.

Because every next slipped away three weeks later and now a year has passed and I cannot even remember how it feels to wrap myself around the promise of a next and breathe in the comforts of its taken-for-granted-simplicity. He's a faraway past, and there are no superheroes this Halloween, and there are boys still, and these are boys who may be the next in line and the next right now, but will never carry with them the next morning, or the next weekend, or the next call, or the next perfect look shot during a walk home down a neon lit city street.

Because the leaves outside my window have somehow become yellow again and I do not know where this year went and because no boy has looked at me quite that way in exactly one year and because I don't know what comes next and I don't know if I even want a next but I do know I would like a boy who replies and because he's become a year ago and because this song is beautiful.

new york, i'm going to love you again

Tomorrow my favourite city and I will be reunited and I will feel the tiniest and I will walk the streets like I know where I'm going and I will strut along like I belong there and I will jump and snap and freeze frame the moments and wonder and guess what waits for me in Toronto when I finally return.

And before all this leaving began, this is what mattered.

hi

This space has been empty for too long because I've been elsewhere (really!) and not because there are no words left because there are actually too many (really!). The past few weeks have been a rush of stasis turning into movement multiplied by a thousand. I went from jobless and unsure to employed and a little less unsure for the time being. I missed a boy I shouldn't and then I missed another boy I also shouldn't and now I don't know who (or what) I miss. I watched my city burst orange and red and I saw the days cool and darken sooner and sooner than before and I felt my spirits sink more and more each and every time. But I ate pumpkin pie four days in a row and I warmed my belly with turkey and stuffing and I danced in the kitchen with my four year old cousin in my arms and I felt a little orange and red inside myself. I went east and I'm packing to head slightly south and I still pinch myself because I can't believe I've been lucky enough to see this much this year. And today I wore a cap and robe and walked across a stage and shook hands and fully closed this chapter and realized I did it alone in the best possible way.

snip snip

Change was the name of the game this past year and this year is winding down because it's dark by seven suddenly and everything I've been anticipating is now past and I have no thoughts in my head except that my rent just bounced and oh my, shouldn't I do something about that? and why why why is the sky only ever grey these days?

I've taken to walking home after work even though it takes an hour and even if the sky is that grey because the fresh air feels perfect after an afternoon surrounded by computers and I can listen to Sherry on repeat and feel as though there is a whole lot up ahead still waiting to be anticipated.

time is on my side?

It's 3 am and time to get my head (and heart) out of the clouds and plant my feet firmly to the ground. It's time to get my life (back?) on track. It's time to get a job. It's time to stop holding onto the hope of it all. It's time to realize that if he was "into me," like they say, we would have brunched or talked for real or at least texted (!) by now. It's time to realize that broken boys can't be fixed, and even if they could, it's not up to me to do the fixin'. It's time to figure out what I want. It's time to clean this room. It's time to read a book for pleasure again. It's time to take a long walk into the sunshine and it's time to jump in puddles when the rain comes. It's time to hope and dream big and it's also time to let go of some of those hopes and dreams that are weighing me down.

au revoir

Bagels and beautiful boys and this song playing on repeat this weekend. Talk soon.

go away i'm no good for you

Since when did "not wanting a boyfriend" turn into sacrificing self-respect? I'm no one night whatever or rebound this or late night that. And maybe these boys don't see that because I'm not letting them see that because I don't want whatever the alternative may be and maybe I'm going for these boys who won't see because I don't want the ones who will. I want to wash everything clean and I want to bury deep under these covers and hide away until the sun promises to stay for real this time. Tonight I walked by his apartment and his bedroom light was on and his curtains were pulled back just far enough to look in and catch a glimpse of a life I barely remember anymore. Standing on that street corner, I was no longer waiting. I was just cold.

And can "not wanting a boyfriend" carry with it a little dignity and comfort? Is it possible to meet before last call and talk about your day and ask about his and have him ask about that day you talked about the last time you two met before last call? And is it possible for him to place his hand on your knee, and keep it there, because he wants to and not just because he knows what follows last call? And can you take this boy home and put on your favourite record and listen to it while he kisses your face and while he kisses your neck and while he kisses you all over and can you even listen to this favourite record when the kissing is all over and the lights are off and you're under the sheets and he's under the sheets too because he's sleeping over and not running home at five am? And can you wake up to this boy still holding you tight and can you turn over and kiss him good morning and kiss him some more and then when the kissing is all over say "hey, do you wanna grab some brunch?" without any hesitation because you know he'll say yes. And afterwards can you hug goodbye and say "talk to you later" because you know you will even though you don't know when and even though you won't think much about when that will be because he said "next time" in passing the night before?

And is "not wanting a boyfriend" even possible when you are me and want the comforts and securities of him without any of the messy expectations and realities that follow?