Seasons of Love

When you meet the perfect person, the possibilities in this world seem endless. When you break up with the ‘perfect’ person, you realize that there ain’t no feeling like being free. But what happens when this feeling of freedom begins to wear off and you find yourself alone—again.

When the weather changes in Toronto, like moods, it can be gradual or happen all of a sudden. I knew fall was in the air when I had woken up in the middle of the night to take out my comforter. The mood would strike me soon thereafter.

It had been almost 4 weeks since I had broken up with BiGuy. My decision had come as a shock to my inner circle of friends, and to BiGuy himself. I explained to him that even though I cared for him and that I had a fun few months with him, I needed something more that what we had and we both agreed that we were looking for different things.

That night, as I struggled to fall back asleep, I couldn’t settle my urge to be lying next to someone else. Like many, I did not want to admit it, but my fall loneliness had begun to come in with the breeze through the open window.

In today’s world of fast food love, a higher significance is placed on independence and the various variations on the “I don’t need a man to complete me” attitude. It is tough to admit that sometimes you just need someone to hug you, to hold you, to kiss you, to touch you. These are things you can’t admit to even your close friends. These were the feelings that made you look weak in the eyes of the ‘completed.’

Ryan had come into town for the weekend from Waterloo and there was no better way to make me feel better, and to get my mind off my growing hunger pain, than a day of shopping.
As I listened to Ryan’s Waterloo stories of Mazen, Asif, and what’s-his-face, I couldn’t help but crowd-watch. From left to right, top to bottom, the Eaton Centre was packed with couples, some with children, some old, some new, and out of no where, I saw a face in the crowd. A very familiar face. It was BiGuy, with another guy. I did a quick turn into MusicWorld and cleared the way for Ryan to see what was sitting right in front of me.

“Who is that guy he’s with?” asked Ryan.

I shrugged. I had no idea.

“There’s no better way to find out then to go say ‘Hi,’” he commented.

As I flipped through CDs, I pretended not to care, and that it didn’t bother me that he was with someone else, but part of me had to know.

And, of course, my cell phone rang. It was BiGuy. The part of me that had to know picked up.

“I just saw you. Why did you run away?” he asked as I strolled to the back of the store, pretending that I had no idea what he was talking about.

“Yes, it was you, I am looking at you right now.”

Ryan tapped me on the shoulder and I turned to the front of the store. I was mortified. Standing at the entrance was BiGuy and the other guy. I was trapped. I couldn’t talk to him. I wouldn’t talk to him. Next thing I knew, I was talking to him.

The guy was Andy. Although I tried not to pass judgment, it was impossible. A punk rocker with a Mohawk (a real one, not one of this where there’s still hair on the side of your head), Andy was introduced to me as a ‘friend.’ Young, cute Andy looked me up and down—the international sign for “I’m not just a ‘friend,’ and who are you?”

Before I had a chance to say anything important or pieces of my soul started to break through my skin, Ryan faked an appointment we were late for and within a matter of minutes we were gone.

“Did you check him out?” commented Ryan over a dinner break. “Can you say faux-emo, teen angst gone on too long?” And he continued.

It was sweet that Ryan was trying to make me feel better, but I just couldn’t help but think that this was all happening in some weird way to make me feel even worse. The seasons were changing to remind me of the love I didn’t have. It was already bad enough that I was missing BiGuy; I didn’t think I’d have to see him for at least another month at the most. I hardly touched my dinner.

A few hundred dollars and a trip to the LCBO later, I found myself late for a night out with the boys and girls. I had come home and decided to catch up on some sleep, woke up and had ice cream straight from the carton, and cracked open my bottle of Vodka to take a small starter shot. I was beginning to spiral into a big emotional mess that I call “what I had failed to confront in the past.”

I believe we all have one of these emotional messes waiting at the end of our spirals. Things we ignore like family stress, friendship issues, feelings of low self-esteem, pretending you’re fine ending a relationship when deep down inside you’re not—things of that nature. I just wasn’t in the mood to confront mine.

But why do we choose to ignore these issues? Why can’t we ever be to the point with our emotions? Or are we just destined to keep going through the seasons of love?

I stood there, looking at myself in the mirror; I had to snap out of it, I needed to have fun tonight.

By the time my friends pulled around, I had polished ¾ of the bottle all to myself and got the sudden urge to make everyone little coolers in sippy-cups. At the time, I thought it was genius.

One little cup with both a sweet and a bitter tasting liquid that only came out when affected by outside forcing, namely a person taking a sip. I kept saying this to myself over and over as I mixed the drinks on my kitchen counter. Except the sippy-cup contained my soul, and the person sucking it out was BiGuy.

Why do we let people we supposedly want nothing to do with get to us? Of course the answer seems obvious, but there must be more to it.

That night, I kept affirming I was a psuedo-cowboy for a Halloween party that we weren’t going to. The downward spiral continued. As soon as we got to the club, I was on the dance floor. I had no time to waste, I had to catch me a man.

By the time we left the club, I had given Jon my number and we had talked about getting together later in the week. In times like this, I had done the man-binge diet; I was not willing to do it again, so I figured one guy would do for the night.

The car ride home was the worst from what I can remember. I was tired, and the alcohol had begun to take a turn for the worst. I was full throttle now.

In thirty minutes, I had managed to pick fights with Danielle, Ryan, and Kevin. There might have been some bitchy remarks made and some “shut the fuck ups” thrown their way, but somehow, my loneliness had managed to let itself out.

The next morning, I woke up feeling like the world had fall down on me and I was too tired to move it. I knew there was one thing left to do. I picked up the phone, and called BiGuy.

I threw myself into the spiral headfirst.

“I didn’t expect to hear from you until I found you behind some bushes in the street,” he said when he realized it was me through the raspy voice.

And so we talked—about everything. I admitted to him that I missed him, and that I really didn’t want it to end. And that I hopped he realized I still cared for him. Of course I didn’t expect, nor want, us to get back together, but it felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders to let the truth out. I was now comfortable knowing everything about Andy, and I found out there was a lot more to his Mohawk than just bald spots around it.

As for my friends, I needed to call them and make sure that I didn’t accidentally end our relationship either.

“You were really bad last night,” affirmed Danielle. “You ate half a pizza by yourself.”

Ouch. I didn’t even remember that part. Turns out I didn’t exactly put my heart out on the dashboard, but I did get a lot off my chest. And it turns out the sippy-cup didn’t exactly contain my soul, just the toxins it filtered out.

Later that week, I got a call from Jon, the guy I had given my number to and forgotten all about.

With a newfound feeling of peace, I decided it was time to do it all over again. So with that, I went out with Jon. Although it was fun, and a great official start to my fall, we both knew it wasn’t a match and we would be better off as friends, since I wasn’t willing to allow anymore toxic men into my life.

I was feeling better about the past few weeks. Maybe I was just looking for a complete closure between BiGuy and I? Or maybe I was just going through the motions?

Whatever it was, I was myself again, and actually embracing my loneliness. And, just like the crossover between seasons is short, I found my mood slowly fading away with the leaves.