canadian love sung

This blog initially blossomed out of response to a breakup. It then gained even more speed during the surprising beginning and end of the relationship that followed soon after. Both those Hes I once blogged so very much about have moved on to become distant memories. The first has finally moved so that the corner I once thought of as home is now just seedy and grey. I don't know where he lives and I don't even know if we'd stop to say Hi if I were to stumble upon him someday. The second He was so fleeting and so long ago that the memories I had of him and of us become more than the actual relationship ever was. And all the Hes that followed these two never really mattered much in the end.

But after all the years of writing of searching for love, I have found it and unexpectedly at that. This love is not new. In fact, He's been around for over a year now. Yet whenever I sat down to write about him here, I just couldn't. My words sounded too real and normal and uncomplicated. There was nothing to lament or yearn for or romanticize because what we have is real and strong and what I had been searching for in all those posts but just hadn't realized I wanted.

And so instead I wanted to tell you about things we'd done, or food I'd made, or places I'd seen, but the words and the stories didn't seem to fit here in a blog so unintentionally devoted to lost love and all sorts of other pasts. And so, with all this in mind, I've decided to bid adieu to Canadian Love Song. New stories are beginning (did I mention that we are moving in together?) and I need somewhere to spill them all.

Please join me over at Plaid Habits. My new blog is going to be much more about the here and now and lifestyle focused. I want to tell you stories in words that are less cryptic, but just as pretty, this time around. Oh, and I want to share lots of photos, too. I'd love to hear from you over at my new address to make sure you made the trip over okay.

So goodbye Canadian Love Song. Thanks for being such a good friend.

Afterwards

Leslie drove by Ossington the other night and said my once room is still mint green all over. For some reason, this made me happy to hear. Whoever lives there now just probably couldn’t be bothered to paint, but even if this is so, I like to imagine that this person is a she and that this girl chose not to, and instead is growing her own big dreams and creating her own stories to tell and feeling the real hope I once felt between those very same mint green walls.