the time is now

as part of my commitment to quit smoking for good, this entry will remain permanently at the top of my blog and serve as a reminder of how far i've come. all future entries will appear below.

in the blink of an eye

so much happens in an instant, in an hour, in a day or week.

as i type this, i'm sitting on the back of my couch, with a perfect view of the south shore and the lightning storm that's happening somewhere in the distance. flashes of light punctuate and scatter across the darkened sky, highlighting the swells of angry clouds. forks of orange and yellow occasionally touch land, so fleeting and so fast, that if you turn your head even a millimetre, you'll miss them.

storm clouds over montreal... and sometimes (still) over my head, too.

my lfe in the last few weeks has been much like this; clouds of grey and beige injected briefly with shots of light. i don't know where to begin, as i'm not even sure where i left off.

early this afternoon, i had jotted down a few things that i wanted to talk about, but it all seems trite, now. i've been getting out more, and meeting people and even enjoying the city. i've been out every weekend in the past month, including a night out during a recent visit to toronto.

but still, loneliness lingers.

quickly, though:

1. my new montreal BFF is a woman by the name of aqila. she is originally from toronto, which is probably why we clicked instantly within minutes of meeting each other. it's because of her i've been getting oot and aboot, hitting the club scene rather hard (for my age, anyway). her drunken escapades have been a source of amusement, although i know this brand of fun quckly wears thin. whatever. i'll take it for as long as i can stand it.
   
   
2. i'm so sick and tired of being lonely and horny (yes, i said it), so i found myself a maintenance man. let's call him JD. he is tall (6'1"). slim (which is not usually my preference) and older (49). he's also from toronto - i don't plan these things, they just happen. he's kind. he's smart. he's good company. he's good at fixing things - literally. he put together my new bedroom furniture, fixed my showerhead, re-grouted my bathroom, and is going to install my curtain rods once i get the new windows in my unit. beyond being useful around the house, he's skillful in other areas and i appreciate the warmth and occasional company that his presence brings. "but what if you fall in love?" aqila asks. i won't, i assure her. JD is attractive enough - but not enough for me to fall in love with. he's not my type at all. . . and he's also got a 28-year-old daughter.
   
   
3. my sweet little puppy-dog-noises-making hayden is going to be a father. he's managed to knock up his ex. when he told me i was positively livid, and could not speak to him for a week. she's six months along, and she's only just told him, which means that, in her typical fucking-bitch fashion, she's managed to get him right where she wants him. "i don't know how someone so smart could manage to be so fucking stupid," i said when i finally calmed down enough to talk to him. not my finest moment, but i'm not known for my ability to sugarcoat.
   
   
4. shortly after the Big Breakup Of 2009, i started wishing on synchronous times on the clock - you know, 1:11, 2:22, 3:33, etc. i would wish, oh, how i'd wish that B and i would get back together. that we'd fix it. that he'd come back. about three or so weeks ago, i realized i'd stopped wishing for his return. in fact, i'd stopped wishing for anything altogether. these days, i just wish for a sign: if i'm to stay here, or if i'm going to move on... should i return to toronto, should i look for new work... i wish now so that maybe, just maybe, something will happen by autumn. a winter alone is going to kill me in this place. i'm already (still) shaky most days, and i'm not entirely sure how i'll fare once i'm housebound.
   
   
5. met a boy. his name is kris. that is all. he's too young, too tattooed and too-cool-for-school for me, but he makes me laugh. he doesn't call, though. just sends text messages. OMG!
   
   
6. it's 10 after 11. i'm going to go to bed.

+dd

hold on my heart

the heart, she is sad.

i've been having more and more days where i really feel as though i'm getting past this whole being dumped thing. and with all the going out and keeping busy i've been doing, i've also pretty much managed to convince myself that i'm almost back to normal.

and then it hits. not loneliness, but a kind of profound sadness, almost a loathing. which is all followed up by the feeling that i'm ridiculously, chronically flawed and unlovable.

i start to think (believe?) that perhaps i'm not really the easy-going, affable girl i think i am, but rather some kind of tyrant who drives boyfriends to cheat. manipulate. become abusive. lie. leave.

and then my mind takes me down misery lane, and i review each one of my failed relationships, until i end up at B.

it's all my fault.
if only i'd been better, somehow. if only i'd been more of something, or less of something else.
he said i was perfect, but if that's true, why did he just ... give up? maybe if i'd just loved more...

* * *

tre's visit last weekend was timely and needed. he is one of my favourite, favourite people. because i try not to encourage him (what, with being married, and all), i always forget what good company he is. and then we hang out and laugh our asses off the whole day long, and it all comes flooding back to me.

we had brunch saturday morning, and were experiencing the quiet chuckles that come after a long, hearty laugh, when he gave me this look across the table. he has looked at me in many ways, but this one was new. it surprised me. "what?" i asked.

"nothing, was just here... thinking. thinking about how amazing i've always thought you were. and how much you deserve to find someone who will latch on to it, and not let it go."

i smiled. tre is all charm and soft words, and right-thing-at-the-right-time. "oh, yeah? someone like you?" i teased.

"yes, and no. you give love. you're all about love. i don't know how you can just... keep loving as much as you do, even after you've been hurt. i've always admired that about you. it's so... attractive."

he was serious, almost angry, it seemed.

"you care, and you love, and you give your heart so easily. there aren't many men who can handle the responsibility that comes with loving someone who loves as much as you do. they think they can, but eventually it's too much for them. the responsibility is just too great."

"you think loving someone is a responsibility?" i'd heard this sentiment before. B used a similar phrase in his exit speech.

"yes. because in order to love you, a man will have to love equally, or more. and this means he has to give up something in his life in order to do that. and most men can't."

"you mean, they won't," i countered. i took a gulp of coffee and then loudly placed the cup back down in the saucer. the noise startled the couple in the next booth. bullshit, i thought.

"some won't. most... just can't." he reached across the table for my hand as i blinked away tears.

"i know i couldn't do it," he said. gee, thanks, tre. "but i know you're going to meet someone who can."

* * *

i'm not sure of my emotional state from week to week, but i know i'm still quite fragile; there are hints of it. like when my friend allison sends and email and in it, she says, "you are a beautiful, smart, funny, amazing and giving woman," which makes me smile and cry at the same time, because i have been feeling none of the above.

or when my mom calls and tells me to "hang in there," but what she really means, in her own bajan way is that she knows so much more is in store for me.

tonight on gmail chat, i was talking with chris (the other chris) and my running joke is a freak out about how many days are left until i visit him in ottawa.

me: andd OOOOOOMIGOD i'll be in ottawa in THREEEEEEEEE days!)
Chris: WHEEEEEEE!!!!
me: i'm actually looking forward to it… not "actually" as in i can't believe it, but "actually" as in "to be honest"
Chris: You better be! lol
me: and if i wasn't? what if i was filled with dread?
Chris: If you were filled with dread, that would make me sad.
me: dread is a strong word... i was a little apprehensive, even after i booked the ticket
Chris: I can live with apprehensive
me: how do you feel??
Chris: excited
me: aw. that made me smile. thanks.
Chris: I just call it like I see it
me: it's been a while since anyone's been excited to see me.

(note: this is where I begin to tear up)

Chris: You deserve to have someone who is excited to see you.
me: (wow. i am such a mess LOL)
Chris: Are you a hot mess?

i wish i could see all the awesomeness that everyone else is seeing. outside i'm smiling, but there are some days when i am just so wrecked on the inside and can't even imagine one day being happy all the time, never mind falling in love with someone, again.

the words do soothe, though.

+dd

ma vie jusqu’ici part II : the new and the old

be a pal, would'ja?

there are marked differences in the way torontonians and montrealers meet and connect.

montrealers are friendlier than torontonians, and it’s easy to meet friends, but they’re less likely to commit, so you’re likely to lose a friend just as quickly (oh, the fickle french). and while it’s tough to initially meet and make friends in toronto, once you make a friend, you’ve found one for life.

there are a lot of lonely people here, and i’m certainly one of them. add to that the fact that i’m black (but not haitian or african), i’m an anglophone, and i’m from toronto? it’s a sure-fire recipe for isolation. nevertheless, i did manage to meet up with a few people during the course of the week.

last thursday i went out with lexi, who seemed nice and we actually hit if off very well. we met for drinks, then wandered around downtown and shopped a little, and ended the evening with dinner. we had a lot of fun, but in typical montreal fashion, i know it will be a while until i hear from her again (if at all). i sent a follow-up email on he weekend and still haven't heard anything, so the ball’s in her court, now. i don’t have her number(s)—she calls me from private number every time she contacts me.

i don’t even know if lexi is her real name!

i had two non-dates with two different guys (charles and hessam, respectively, on friday and saturday)—both of whom were looking for romance, it’s quite clear, even though they claimed the desire for something platonic. i could see charles actually weighing my potential mate-ness as we spoke chatted during a post-dinner coffee. and while i found him nice, i’m not even going to bother with getting back to him. what would be the point? i don't want to encourage him, further to my gaffe as he walked me to the metro station to go home. as we parted, i offered a hug—because that's what you do in toronto after a nice time with a nice person! you hug, right? well, you're not in kansas, anymore, dorothy. here it's all about the european cheek kiss. complete strangers do it as a greeting (hell, my dance instructor does it at the start and end of every lesson, and i've only seen him twice). so i could tell from the back rub that followed the hug (i grimace as i write this) that charles definitely interpreted the gesture incorrectly. oops.

saturday's meeting with hessam was just a waste of time. i wasn't feeling him from the moment he sent the initial email, not for anything, either; he was actually quite pleasant and seemed friendly. but he kept insisting on my picture, a weird request, i thought, since i'd already described myself and where we'd meet (there aren't many girls who look like me in montreal; i wouldn't have been that hard to miss).

i sent him one just before i left to meet him, and almost as soon as he appeared, i wanted to punch him in the face. he was just... icky. he took me to parc lafontaine—a beautiful, romantic, sunny spot just outside of the main drag in the plateau. did i mention it was romantic? did i mention i wanted to punch him out? i lied to get rid of him after only an hour, and when i got home i promptly deleted him from my gmail contacts. chupse.

sunday at noon, i met up with shauna, a musician and recent transplant from saskatchewan. we met at atwater station, and then had brunch at this crazy place called tropical hawaii. it was awesome. afterward, we went to atwater market (a complete disappointment, as i really thought it was going to be a big market akin to st. lawrence back home, but no… it was more like an open sale in someone’s very large house. boo.). we raided a nearby drugstore (fun!), hopped the metro and wandered the plateau after that, and hung out until around 6pm.

i have a scheduled rendez-vous on the weekend with kim, also an ex-torontonian. (yay!) we’ve exchanged emails, text messages and even hit up each other on facebook (so you know it’s friends for reals, yo! heh.) but so far we haven’t managed to make it to real-time connection.

my friend tre is coming into to the m-dot for a funeral this weekend, but after the doom and gloom has passed, he'd like to hang out. in toronto, i stay clear of him, given our history and crazy chemistry, but it would be nice to see a face from home. he's actually from montreal, originally, so it'll be cool to take a tour of the city with someone i know. but i'll arrange to meet him someplace. he doesn't need to know where i live. my life is messy enough right now, thank you very much.

next weekend, i've planned a trip out to ottawa (finally) to see my friend chris (the other chris, haha). we've been blog buddies for years (he's the brother-in-law of my other blog buddy, kat), and have even met up a few times in person. we always have fun when we get together. truth be told, i'm a bit wary of going out there (there's always been some kind of attraction, i'm walking wounded right now, vulnerable, blablabla—typical and stupid girl-angst) but i know i've nothing to worry about (i just think too much). chris is a consummate gentleman, and above and beyond everything, we are indeed friends.

"you have a chance for a weekend of fun, so take it." says neelam. "don't spend any time thinking about it; pack the night before, catch the train and be gone. it will do you good to get out of the m-dot for a bit." i know she's absolutely right. chris is great to hang out with, and we always have a good time together. plus, he's hilarious, and i really, really could use the laughs, these days.

besides, i've never been to our nation's capital.

*gasp!*

the horror!

i know, right?

shaddap.

+dd

abrupdates : for a song

the competition's over 'cause the fat lady sang...

i'm excited. tonight i'm going to take in some arts & culture, something i haven't done in ages, even when i lived in toronto (unless you count the sound of music, which i've seen three times since it opened).

this evening, i'm going to see the laureates of the Montreal International Musical competition, a three-part, three-year musical contest which is comprised of competitors in separate categories for voice, piano and violin. this year is all about the voice. the winners are:

1st place : angela meade, soprano, US
2nd place : yannick-muriel noah, soprano, canada
3rd place : andrew garland, baritone, US

my co-worker told me about it, and i didn't get to the finale last night (too tired; didn't even go to dance class. boo), but i'm still rather looking forward to seeing the three talented winners perform.

it should be a nice time.

can't wait!

+dd

ma vie jusqu’ici part I : the crying game

i know, it’s been a while since i’ve updated and a lot has been happening (and yet, things have more or less stayed the same). i had a series of little blog entries i wanted to post up, and i had intended to amalgamate them all into one long post, but i’ll break them into three parts and that way i’ve alleviated some of the guilt i feel for having neglected my blog as of late.

alors, ans plus de cérémonie, ma blog:


the crying game

cry, cry baby, moonshine darling, kick off your shoes and go to your bed!

so,

it’s been exactly one month since B and i parted ways. and what a difficult month it’s been. i am used to the angst that comes along with bad relationships and toxic people, and so even though a breakup is always sad, there’s a huge sigh of relief that comes with finally being free of the bondage of a tainted union. B and i weren’t toxic, and our breakup rather blindsided me (although, in retrospect, i knew that something was amiss—even beyond the tingling of the spidey senses). there have been a lot of tears. far more than i’m accustomed to.

we had a little tiff last night over an email i sent (a misunderstanding, really) and his reaction left me reeling. i didn’t cry, but the shock from the response he sent me (i couldn’t even get through the whole letter, it was so… wow) made me realize that i need to leave him be. even though we’re not together, his presence in my life is keeping my spirits buoyed. it was one of the reasons he ended things; he simply did not want to bear the responsibility of being my anchor, my cheerleader, any more. last night's kick in the throat was exactly what the doctor ordered.

and besides, i really need to learn how to live ma vie à montreal (or toronto—but more on that later) without him because:

• he’s not coming back.
• because he is moving on without me. (last night when i called to explain/apologize for any misunderstanding, i started talking right way. "who is this?" he asked. sigh.)
  

because it’s probably better this way.

further to last night’s epiphany, i had a teary 24 hours on the weekend from sunday to monday, at the end of which i was just so disgusted with myself and all the crying i’ve been doing lately. yes, yes, it’s all part of breakups and broken hearts, i get it, but god damn, it’s hard on the eyes.

and i’m ruining my makeup.

no more!

(or should i say, fini!)

+dd

missing.

the saddest part of a broken heart, isn't the ending as much as the start

i'm home for the weekend.
so happy to be home.

i've been on a slow descent into msadness the last few weeks.
days buoyed by laughter and good friends have kept me from falling completely.

i'm so happy to be home.

it's weird not seeing him, though.
my arrival at union station was bittersweet;
instead of heading west toward his place,
i hopped the subway and headed home.
my home.
my parents' home.

it's weird to be here without him.

tonight i'm meeting him to pick up my stuff.
he's had it boxed up for weeks now.
i think my heart is in there, somewhere, too.

he won't permit me to come up,
so i've arranged to meet him and he will bring it all down to the lobby.

i hope i can keep it all together.

+dd