Back from Black

I'm back from black.
After almost one long year away from you all I'm back and committed.

So here's the wrap up in just a few sentences, stream-of-consciousness style, of course.

dating brad, break is imminent maybe tonight
moved out of the horror that was my life last year
got a great summer gig
worked at a ritzy boutique hotel
got e-cheated on
met one of my long lost soulmates who i love life with
in a hot new loft
work and writing, doing what i love

so here comes my life. live in black and white.
barenaked once again.

and free to live, learn and love.

Showtime

So these last few days have been plenty of drama. And I hate to use that word, I am so above it.

Basically, let’s just say it all reverts back to Brad.
In the last few days, we’ve hung out a lot. I’m talking lunches, dinner, late night coffee.

Essentially, I’ve seen so much of Brad that it feels my world is melting into one with his.

He came over Monday night and we basically just hung out, watched some TV, sat on my terrace and talked in the nice weather. Of course, I was wearing his ring, but around my neck, I couldn’t dare wear it on my finger, for fear of how he, or I, would react.

Eventually, we moved to the couch and started talking and kissing. Then, we moved to my bedroom where things really got hot and heavy. We didn’t do much, and, thankfully, my clothes stayed on. Yes, I know other lovers and strangers, my clothes stayed ON!

Eventually, one thing lead to another and we just—well, we fell asleep on each other. Next time I know it’s 3 AM, and I have class in 5 hours. As I woke him up and walked him downstairs, looking absolutely hideous, he kissed me goodbye and I watched him walk to his car.

The next morning, I hear my phone go off with a txt message, and then another, and then another. It was Brad. I blame myself because I left my phone on, and he thought I was in class, but for the next two hours, I struggled in between getting some sleep and txt messaging him. Somehow, and I have no idea where, he was picking me up in twenty minutes for a power lunch.

34 txt messages, an espresso shot, and a quick change later, I was waiting down in my lobby’s courtyard for Brad. As he pulled up in a huge white worker-van, I felt butterflies in my stomach.

Did anyone but me think it was odd I was seeing him twice in almost seven hours?

After a quick trip to Home Depot and a work-related pick up on his part, we managed to stop in front of South St. Burgers when he got a call from his mother. After listening to them talk about seeing him rush to find a phonebook to help his ill mother find the number for her drug plan company, a part of me realized why he could never be fully committed to me. The poor boy was sweating of stress it was so sad. I just wanted to hug him so badly, but I had to settle for sitting across from him.

We finally ordered our burgers and got a seat on the outdoor patio. At 21+ C, it was a gorgeous day. With the sun on my face, the delicious meal, and the amazing man in front of me, I knew there was nowhere else I wanted to be at that moment. I was even wearing white, which even more stressed my serene state while getting dressed in the morning. Speaking of which, cute Converse jeans at Holts (in white, of course) were bought today.

As we sat and ate our food, it was pretty chill for the first time since our week-long affair.

That night, after struggling through class that day, he came over again. We watched a bit of The Devil Wears Prada and just talked.

I whispered into his ear, Tell me something no one knows about you.

After careful consideration, he replied, Nobody knows that I think I’m falling for you.

Fuck, did people actually say that shiz anymore?

I cleverly avoided the comment by giving my trademark smile and chuckle, and continued to watch the movie.

Later that night, in my bed, we got a little closer. During a break, he said to me, I don’t know what I did before you. My world was so empty, and now all I want to do is see you, be with you, you make me complete in some way.

Okay, this was too much for me. First you don’t want a relationship and then you want a relationship. Is that it? EXPLAIN TO ME DAMNNIT.

As I said goodbye to him at 1 AM, I knew I couldn’t reverse what we’ve gotten ourselves into. One of us would get hurt, and I was not sure if I wanted to take the hit for this one.

Yesterday, as I struggled through class, I found myself with an extra-long break in-between. Naturally, I had lunch with Brad again. This time, we did it quick time at Tim Hortons, where he proceeded to bring up his feelings for me, and the fact that he doesn’t know what I’ve done to him.

But by the same token, he talks a lot about my ass and how he wants to fuck me. It’s really been on my mind. Does he want me? Or does he want to fuck me to break my two-year-one-month virtue record??

He mentioned that he used to be able to fool around and have sex without emotion, but suddenly I have changed him and kept him coming back for more, and, apparently, for me.

So I got to thinking: Is time even a variable in all of this? Who’s to say he won’t get over me once he gets my cherry? Just because those guys gave it up quicker than I am, he was able to get over it quicker only by consequence. Who’s to say when I give it up, he’ll stay around?

But his words were definitely sending mixed signals! What did he want from me? I mean, we’ve hung out quite a bit so what does that tell you?

That night, Rhi and I stayed in for our traditional Top Model/Girlfriends Wednesday Night Party. It was nothing special.

Before I went to bed, I called Brad up to say goodnight, and see what was up with him.
Not surprisingly, he was doing a million things at once.

However, he seemed to be getting a ton of nudges on MSN, and I asked who the hell is nudging you so much?

Oh, some new person I’m talking to.

WHAT? NEW PERSON?

I’m wearing that damn ring, not that it means anything more than I like it, and he’s telling me I complete him, he’s falling for me, and talking to other people.

I can’t no more of this. Either he will or he won’t. He does or he don’t.

I slowly ended our conversation, and we said good night.

This morning was nothing out of the normal. French Lit exam. Shopping. Visiting my parents.

And, of course, text messages from Brad. Since he wanted to play that game, I sent him an ‘accidental’ txt message intended for someone else, and he got all pissed at me and wondered who it was.

And of course, as I write this, I’m waiting for Brad to finish his dinner plans and then come hook up with me. We’re going for our “Party in the Park,” what that exactly entails is beyond me.

And as I type these lines and this newest saga in the Brad-Me Story, I can’t help but look at this ring, shinning back at me form the reflections of my pot lights.

What will become of me? What will happen tonight? Does it even matter?

I’ve decided that tonight is the night. Either he wants to figure out what we’re doing and cut the crap. I mean, I don’t mind being just one on one with him, not a relationship, but at least some exclusivity. Give a bitch a break. I might even have to give up the ring if I don’t like what I wear, but I will not be jerked around.

It’s showtime.

Makes Me Wanna Pray

So last night was the Christina concert.

It was a-m-a-z-i-n-g. Let me tell you how I am going to meet that chick and she is going to ask me for marriage advice. Maybe that's a stretch, but who knows.

So after the concert I was supposed to hang out with this guy Jason. In light of the recent Brad events, I decided to skip out on drinks with Jason.

Even though I clearly told him I might come, and I assumed he was going with his friends, he ended up txt-ing me and waiting at the bar ...ALONE! I am officially a monster. But I quickly had to get over it, and so I chalked it up to miscommunication. It was his fault for assuming.

I've been bumming around all day, reading my latest issue of GQ (taking notes haha), and considering what to make for dinner.

Brad might be coming over for a movie, which is hopefully not code for fooling around because I am so not in the mood. But I won't mind.

Besides that, I have a million things to do. My brother is going to Florida with his family, and invited Rhi and I to come along. So I gotta decide what is going on. I should also clean, I suppose.

Who knows, hopefully there's no drama drama drama...just a chill night.

Revival

Work was hell yesterday. I was so damn tired, but daddy made me the best breakfast since he’s convinced I don’t eat, which is basically true. But I wasn’t trying to reject that huge breakfast.

I can only imagine how Brad was doing at work. We sent a few txts back and forth, but we were both so busy. Ok, well, I wasn’t THAT busy so I was glued to my phone, but I know he had shit to do.

So I managed to make it back to my apartment in one piece, and I had to rest up for the night. I had been talking to Brad on and off all day and I knew he was excited.

At about 9PM, I get a call from him telling me that the venue has been changed from 279 to Revival Nightclub, and guest list finished at 11PM. Not only did I have to rush to leave my place, but I also had to rush to get ready. After altering Rini, I a-lined to my closet.

In a made fury, I threw on a cute white shirt, tie, and black sweater with jeans and my clickly-clacks. I had no neck. But no time for that.

I checked my e-mail quickly to find the sweetest offline message from him: can’t wait to chill with you later.

As I rushed out of my apartment at 10.06PM, I called Rini to meet me at the next metro station down, and then I called Brad to tell him I was on my way.

Twenty-five minutes later, I was still waiting for Rini at the station. Where the hell was she?
I was annoyed out of my mind, I left the station to leave her the nastiest voicemail. Low and behold, she was right in front of me!

We managed to make it to the club in 40 minutes, and after paying a ridiculous cover charge (thanks to Rini) and 3 bucks for coat check, we made it up to the 3rd level. I immediately pulled out my phone and txt messaged Brad: I'm here now, it's up to you to find me.

After circling the club for a while, I turned the corner and bumped into something...that something was Brad. Damn, he was looking cute. I found you, he said.

After some mixing and mingling and dancing the night away, I met about 20 of his friends. It was quite funny. But it was Brad and I the whole night, talking and laughing. He was completely normal.

My fear that he would ignore for his friends was completely stupid. We all talked and they didn't even care. Clearly he wasn't hiding the fact that he was bi, or gay...or totally into me.

It was quite amazing. I felt as if we were moving in a new direction. As the night drew to a close, I was getting ready to leave with Rini when I asked if he would come see me after he picks up his car from the station. Did you even have to ask? he responded.

Two subways and some timbits later, I was getting in his car at the passenger pick-up because he was already waiting at my apartment. The hell I was going to walk when he could just meet me.

We ended up just chilling and talking in the Dominion parking lot, just like the night before. But we talked even more and it felt like we were just enjoying our company.

Then he said something that rocked my inner core: Who would have thought a few days ago, you would make me change my mind?

What the hell does that mean??? I didn't know or care, but it was pretty amazing.

It only reinforced the fact that I am scared to death of liking him and then having to leave him to go to MTL.

I don't want to risk feeling the way I felt with him in that car and then leaving the city and never feeling that way again.

At the end of the night, he drove me to my lobby and we talked for another 10 minutes. I was playing with one of his rings, and I put it on my finger. I think it looks good on you, he said, as I held out my hand and then took it off. I want you to wear it, you can give it to me next time.

This was all getting to real for me. I didn't know what to think, but I didn't want to. As I got out of the car he pecked me and slapped my ass.

And so I just walked into my apartment and looked at my hand. He was still with me.

And like the nose ring he said he loved so much, I knew I could never get rid of him or it. He was slowly becoming a part of me.

Tomorrow's the Christina concert, so I'll have something to keep me occupied.

I think we're on our way.

Here I Am...

I’m visiting my parents today. I’m in their basement right now, and yes, I know it’s late. I just got back from hanging out with Brad. Yes, you read right, BRAD. Haha.

The night started out pretty funny. Rini, Rhi, and I were going to the Savannah Room for this hot reggae jam that our DJ-friend invited us to, but as we walked up to the bar, it looked totally dead so we skipped off and went to the village instead.

We literally did nothing. Between Rhi and Rini gabbing out who knows what, I was on the phone talking and txt-ing with Brad all night. Rude maybe? Shit, I hope not.

After barhopping all over, we ended up eating Baklava on the street corner. Fancy, I know.

On the bright side, we met the bar manager of this HOT, undiscovered, untarnished bar just north of Wellesley. After a bit of conversation, Rhi and I decided we were going to promote for this place, throw a hot party, and monopolize north of Wellesley and make lounging-clubbing-barring the way it SHOULD be.

As sad as it sounds, I was excited cos it would be my ticket out of going to Montreal.

So as the night went on, Brad started txt-ing me lyrics from his favourite stupid song “Hotel California” ( barf, je sais) so I returned the favour with “Get Together.”

Next thing you know, I’m driving back up to the ‘burbs to meet Brad at some random Tims after dropping off the girls.

It was about 1.25AM when I pulled into the parking lot and he pulled up right beside a few seconds later. I got into his car and off we went, just driving around, doing a whole lot of nothing.

We talked for a bit here and there, and he was way more touchy-feely than normal. My face, my cheeks, and at one point, I even got a nice hand massage from him. I love them, by the way.

So one thing leads to another, and I’m on his shoulder about to call asleep.

He kisses my cheek. I kiss his neck.
I slowly move up and edge my lips closer to his, I feel his breath on me.

And right there, at 2:36AM, Brad kissed me for the first time.

And it was not good. Either he was nervous or something, but the kiss was awkward.

As we kept going, and I started showing him what I like, and he got more relaxed, we kept going. It started to get good. Really good. But I won’t lie, I was worried there for a second.

Then he kissed my forehead. When a guy kissed your forehead, he likes you. But I didn’t know what to think.

Just two days ago, he was telling me that he didn’t want a relationship and blah blah and now we’re making out AND I get a forehead kiss.
The night went on, we talked, we kissed, we talked, we kissed. And it wasn’t even making out. It was kissing. It was down-to-earth. It was passionate, not raw. It was sensual, not sexual.

As we said our goodbyes, which lasted another 20 minutes, he urged me to come tomorrow night. I finally caved in and told him I would.

As I got into my car, he looked at me, and I blew him a kiss. He caught it and blew one right back.

And as I drove off, he followed right behind me. We went our separate ways at the lights.

But I knew we’d never be too far.

A Burger and a Boy

About to call it a night my other loves and strangers, so just thought I’d do a quick post.

Went for dinner with Rini tonight to some dive down the street from my apartment. Turns out, a dive does good dinner. And damn cheap too. Cos you know how I do.

I told Rini about Brad and my worries, and about MTL coming up. She was so excited; she’s decided to drive Rhi and I down there! It’s going to be quite an exciting trip I must say.

As I was eating with Rini, Brad called me, and said one of the single most sweetest things to me: I’m just reminding you about Ugly Betty tonight. …I know I don’t watch it, but I know you love it, so don’t forget. P.S. I hate you…. I don’t know what you’ve done to me, all I want to do is talk to you, hear your voice, be with you.

I was almost going to choke on my burger. Did he just say that? TO ME?

That doesn’t sound like the workings of someone who DEFINIATELY wants to marry a woman. We’ll see.

A Bottom and a Bottom-Line

Rhi is here, so I guess I’ll make it a quick one.

I woke up this morning, and I felt amazing. I don’t know what to think of last night, and I’m almost scared to read my post to see how much I was gushing with excitement, but I don’t care. I just want to embrace my time with him.

I went to class today, and I was in my own world. He txt-ed me first thing this morning saying asking how I was. And we excited a few things back and forth.

It was the start of it all. We’re moving in a new direction, I can feel it.

We talked all day, on the phone, through txt, MSN, the works. AND I had class all day.

It’s just so easy with Brad, so natural. Like two pieces of a puzzle. I just want to promise him that I would be his. I just want to know he’d be mine.

He called me tonight when he got home from work, and we chatted for a bit. It was time to find out his ‘bottom-line.’ As much as I didn’t want to know. It was crucial. Did he want to date? Just chill? Looking for a relationship? Not even with me, but in general.

And as one thing led to another. He spilled the beans:

He is not looking for a relationship.

My heart sank. Not that I expected much for a bi, but like I told him last night, he was different. And although he thinks he’s this exception to the rule that I never go after bi guys, it was true, he is the exception. He was different.

So naturally pissed, what did I do? Closed myself off, picked a fight and hung up on him.

After mulling it over, being a bitch was not the way I wanted to go. So after about 1.5 hours, I decided to call him back. I left him the cutest voicemail about how everything is ok, and I hope I didn’t come off the wrong way.

He called me back within two seconds: I was dying to call you back when you hung up on me, but I didn’t think you wanted me to.

He didn’t even check his voicemail. Yay?

We talked briefly about stuff neither here nor there and we were trying to play night for the rest of the night.

As he hung up, I told him to check his voicemail.

Before I logged offline, he typed don’t worry, I still luv you.

On another note, I asked Rini to come with me on Saturday night. She’s in. I’m officially going, I just gotta make him think now that I might not. Haha. We’re going for dinner tomorrow night so I can tell her all of the juicy details from last night.

Don’t worry Brad, I still l-u-v you too.

Love's or Lust's Embrace?

I could not be more scared of being happy than I am right now.

By a weird fluke of an event, I hung out with Brad tonight. We’ve been talking about going out, and with this whole Rhi thing, he was really helping me keep my mind off things. He was actually someone I could talk to, oddly enough.

The evening began with us tentatively making plans, nothing special. Then it began with him pushing it back, and back, until it seemed it might not even happen. This Brad is a busy man I tell you.

So I went with Rhi to have dinner at Michael’s house. It was the first time I had seen him since our blowout Sunday morning, and part of me was still feeling hurt by him. I couldn’t get over it. I tried so hard to work through my issues about it, and slowly but surely I was getting there.

In any event, dinner was fabulous. We had a nice chicken pasta salad with grilled pita bread and spinach dip to start. Really, quite amazing. So I talked to Michael about the whole Brad thing, and how things might not happen, and what was going on between us. Right off the bat, Michael veto-ed the whole idea because Brad was bi, he even sided with Rhi. I knew I shouldn’t be shocked, it’s only natural for them to think that way. I mean, I STILL think that way.

But Brad was different. I have wanted this guy from the first moment I laid my eyes on him. Something just took control of me, and said that’s who is going to make you a happier person. I know that all sounds cheese, and it might all fizzle away, but it’s the way I feel, and I can’t help but think it, which is totally wonderful and shitty at the same time.

So on the subway ride home, I got a call from Brad. We had finally settled on something. He was going to pick me up at my apartment at 10:30PM.

When I got home, my roomie was lounging about, just doing her thing. She told me I looked amazing and I told her about Brad. She was mega excited and knew we’d just hit it off. She completes me in that sense, because I was a ball of pessimism at this point. I was not ready to face another heartache.

My cell rings. He’s downstairs. I looked at myself in the mirror. The man I had been chasing for the last two months was at in my lobby. I took a deep breathe, and just decided this is one of those times where I was going to sink or swim.

I walked up to his hot Civic and knocked on the window. He unlocked the door and I got in. Immediately, everything I was working for. Everything I had obsessed about. All that I thought I wanted… was right in front of me.

He was nervous, I was nervous. I didn’t know what to think. I asked him if we could go the bank. As I finished up at the ATM, and turned around to walk out the door, my jacket got caught in clutch-handle thing and I went flying right back into the door. With him watching! I was MORTIFIED!

Without a doubt, he called me out on it. He actually called ME out on it…and I liked it.

We decided on a night like tonight that we would go to Tims for coffee. And shockingly, I paid for his ass. It’s the least I could do for being such a bitch to him all this time and making it so damn hard for him.

We parked and talked for a bit, and we finally started flirting like old times. It’s times like these I’m happy he understands me in ways most guys have never.

We drove around for a bit, the wind from his sunroof in my hair, and I just embraced the moment with him, not knowing what would happen.

We parked at a tiny school near my house and the conversation got pretty heavy. We talked about our past. Our families. Our lost loves. Our hopes. Our dreams. Our struggles. Our sadness. He explained why it’s so hard for him to open up and that he purposely wanted to show me the worst side of himself so I wouldn’t like him, almost like a self-sabotage. Any normal person would have run away, but I myself was a victim of self-sabotage and although I may not show the worst, I can be a total bitch in order to keep guys away.

He said he felt like two different people sometimes. The Brad he’s supposed to be, and the Brad that he really is. It was quite a profound conversation, and, naturally, I put a stop to it immediately because I was not about to get all heavy and serious all up and through this conversation.

Since he had to be at work for 7AM, we ended the night a little early. He drove me home, and as we pulled up to my concierge, he didn’t end it immediately. Despite the fact that I kept insisting he had to go to bed, we talked for another 40 minutes in his car in front of my building…just talking. On the other hand, he kept insisting, subtly, but nevertheless insisting, I come out on Saturday night to his friend’s party.

I thought that is where I had to draw the line because I didn’t want to hang out with his straight friends when he doesn’t even has his shit straight, and I was not going to travel there by myself or go to some random guy’s house for pre-drinks. So I smiled, telling him I’d do my best.

I hugged him goodbye, and wished him a good day at work.

And like a perfect gentleman, he didn’t even try to kiss me.

I walked upstairs and just walked into my apartment, I realized I didn’t even have the urge to txt him or wait for his phone call.

Although I might drown in the process, I’ve decided I’m going to swim for now.

I know he’ll be there in the morning.

C-Lounge

So basically, last night Rhi, Danielle, and I went to C-lounge. It was pure crap. Not only was it a trashy straight club, but the crowd was not hot and we had to pay crazy cover, something I don't do often.

In any event, Rhi and I got into this huge argument about money. Apparently he thinks he always has to front me and this and that, but not everyone can live on an excess of student loans. Point is, he HAS it and I don't, but it's not even about that. I could tell there was so much deeper. It was our first real fight in a while. It was weird.

I didn't know what to think....was he secretly resenting me this whole time? What else was hiding? With Rhi (like with me) things are never really THAT simple.

We talked for a bit about it the next morning, but nothing serious. I was not in the mood.

On the flip side, Brad and I have been talking like no tomorrow. He's been so nice and our conversations are amazing, but I don't know what his deal is, and we've been at this game forever. And Rini told me he said he wants to marry a girl, and all this. He's even told me he doesn't want a relationship with a guy.

So with that, and the Rhi drama, and my going down for the second time last Friday, I didn't know what to think.

Sometimes, you just have to dine into things face first.

Sometimes you just have to start in the shallow end.

Sometimes you just need to realize you don't have a bathing suit, and just say out of the water all together.

Other times, you just need to forget all that and do it your own way, on your own terms.

B is for...

So shit has hit the fan.

Basically, my roomie found out my plans because my stupid real estate agent opened his big mouth and e-mailed her. And so did the landlord's. So much for options, they thought I wanted a way out!!

I have been back and forth and some pretty bad things are being said, but I know we'll be fine. Long of the short, she came home tonight from work a night early and we had a long convo, she boiled down to letting me sublet, which is not TOO bad. I can leave for the summer and then come back and still have my apartment!!!

Now I just need to get on that.

She's such a bitch, she said some really awful things about me, getting all legal. We ended up with Rhi just chilling and eating Mc.D's in some parking lot. It's weird how we just get back to normal LIKE that.

After my Friday night horror, you can clearly see why there is not guy news, I'm laying low.

Except for Brad...I haven't given up on him just yet. We talked for the first time in a while on the phone today and it was cute. He left me the funnnnniest voicemail. It was nothing special, and we were still adjusting after his long absence and the shit that went down with Alys and Rini. BUT who knows. He's all confused and I don't know if I can go for that.

So B is for many things.

Going Down, Down For The Second Time

I just got in.

Today was the single worst realization-heavy day of my life. What the hell was I thinking??? Let me know, because clearly that inner-voice is starting to sound good right now.

So let me break it down quicktime because I am so tired.

Basically, my day started out none adventurous. Of course, I kept getting those stupid "can't wait" txts from Ricky, and well, Matt was really silent on the matter. You know how 'bi' guys do.

First up to bat: Ricky. 5'9'', not fat, NOT thin, blond (uhhh...), white German

Basically, I give him props because he found my apartment with no trouble, and actually managed to be facing my window when he looked up and saw me break my blinds as I was ruffling them to get his attention. So I get all cute: white graphic shirt, cardigan, skinny jeans, my all-stars...nothing too crazy. Well, can I tell you how Queen St. was introduced to A.E.

He was cute, but, right off the bat, I knew it wouldn't work. I was a defeatist. We grabbed Starbucks around the corner and basically just chilled out. Of course, I became detached and whatever about the whole situation, but I was trying to be cute nonetheless. We chilled and just did whatever. No big deal. After I had finished my HORRID Vanilla Bean Latte, I suggested we head over to the local dump-of-a-mall I hung out at when I was in high school. Nothing changed. Not in the mall, and not in our date or chemistry.

It went from hot to cold, good to bad. It was just blah.

So we cut it short and promised we'd chilled. I ended up getting home just in time for Tyra, and I had a turkey sandwich because my next date wasn't until 8.30PM.

I wasn't bummed about it, but I wasn't jumping for joy or sad it didn't work. I think he was a bottom anyway. Tant pis pour moi.

7.30PM rolls around and I'm naked on my bed doing some paper on the linguistic study of communication. Not even excited. I sort of knew what lay ahead, looking back. I get a txt:

"Let's make it 8.20...deal?"

Basically, I had no choice. He has pushed it back. Yay. Now maybe I could actually put some effort into this affair?

Next up to bat: Matt, 6'3'', nice manly thick body, black hair (yay dark features...), racial mut. Now we're talking...

So I walk up the stairs of the Royal Bank at Yonge and Bloor, and as I turn around from the ATM, there he is. I did something so crazy that I had never done with a guy. I hugged him. It was just an experiment, one that resulted in his iPod getting tangled on the buttons of my car coat. Thank God none of my fucking buttons fell off, or I would have been pissed.

After a sexy, but LOUD dinner at 7West, which was crazy expensive for some shit plate I could not afford, we headed over to some Irish pub, which gave me memories of Scottish guy (another story, for another time...). He didn't pay for my meal, FYI, and he begged me to get a $9 martini. Had I known the fucker was not gonna front me any cash...THE HELL.

Up to this point, nothing exciting happened. Either I was being boring, or he was being boring. But the most excitement we had (well, he had, I was scared) was a car crash at Wellsley and Yonge. It happened right before our very own eyes. Weird. Metaphor perhaps for the crash site this date had become?

At the pub, I got a txt-message from BiGuy: Come see me, where are you? Let's hang... He was clearly drunk. So I excused myself to the washroom and chatted with him for a bit in the stall. It was a strange sort of comfort in a way, my only solace from bad date number two.

But as I got back to the table, and sat down, I realized one thing. Looking off into the distance, it hit me. I was not looking for anyone...or anything. I was not having fun because I wasn't into it. Was I the one not into it? Or was it just the bad guys? But I realized I have no time to date losers like this who don't give me butterflies. As they say, and I believe, I refuse to settle for anything less than butterflies. It was time to go home. I was sick of this horseshit and too excited to pretend anymore.

After we finished at the pub, we walked over to Bloor together. I was brushing against his shoulder. Smiling. The works. got nothing. I think the worst part up to this point was that I wasn't even buzzed.

As we said our goodbyes, we committed the cardinal sin and uttered the words of a failed date: It was fun, we should do this again, I'm sure I'll be seeing you.... I mean, does anyone ever really mean it when they say that.

As I pressed my body against his, and he hugged me tightly at Bloor Station, I knew I would never talk to him again.

And he smelled like Heineken...

The Lease

Talked to the real estate agent. And I e-mailed my old realtor. I have a secret meeting set-up for not this Wednesday, but next. So we'll see what happens then and tomorrow night.

I'll keep you all posted.

A Better Life

So my date didn't really work out as I had planned. It was time for some serious self-reflection, hence this delay in the posting.

I need to take some time to figure out what it was that I wanted from life, from love, and from myself. I know that sounds cheesy, but that's the way it is.

Inadvertently, however, I had gone to visit my parents in the 'burbs and got a cute little message from this guy named Ricky. Oddly enough, that was the name of Tee's in-the-closet-she-doesn't-know bisexual boyfriend. My heart sank. So anyway, turned out not to be him, but we had a cute little interesting chat. So cute, that we wanted to meet up on Monday.

I was not ready to go down this path again.

Matt had finally come clean with me and he realized that he wanted to meet me, and he was ready for whatever would happen between us. I was so over it. Like so gone.

So Monday comes and goes and Ricky and I never hooked up. Oddly enough, we can't seem to stop txting each other or talking endlessly. Same thing with Matt, it was crazy. But in retrospect, I shouldn't have ignored my feelings that things were not gonna go over too well.

Word of advice all you lovers and other strangers, when guys start using the following phrases, be it via MSN, Txt-ing, or otherwise, beware:

You can't wait to meet me, don't lie.

It's gonna be such an amazing time.

I'm so excited. It's gonna be chill.

Run. Run. Run. Run and don't ever look back. I need to start listening to my inner voice.

Well, things got so complicated between work, school, Ricky, Matt, and my damn roomie (still trying to get out of the lease), that I started forgetting who I told what to.

In any event, I had managed to book in Ricky and Matt on the same day. I double-booked. This can only be so interesting. I'm a whore.

I'm excited and nervous at the same time. Oh shit, did I just say excited? Fuck, it's going to be awful.

On another note, Brad came back from Europe. We haven't talked much and things have been pretty weird between us. I don't think there will be anything salvage, he seems pretty pissed I went all up and through trying to play the spy and get some info.

And last, but not least. LA is out. MTL is in. Who knows what awaits this summer, but I was excited. Now I have that secret meeting I have to plan, we'll see what happens.

But I can't worry about that now, I have more pressing matters...

Le Sigh- Part Deux

So, last night was interesting.

We had a good little chat over some coffee. It wasn't as fabulous as I had pictured. In a way, I felt like I was cheating on Matt, and Brad....and well, what was I even doing.

We stayed out for like an hour. From start to finish, I clocked in at 60 minutes. Cute guy, but I'd def need to see where things go and hang out again before I decide if I want him, but I doubt that will happen. When the coffee shop closed, it seemed like we were just humouring each other into hanging out and prolonging the situation. It felt like something that would never end, but that we didn't want it to end at the same time. It's like we couldn't make up our minds about one another. I still can't, but I doubt he's the man for me.

I think it's time to accept the fact that I have been trying to ignore for a while: I am jaded.

I have reached the point in my life where I can tell if a meeting (or "a date") is going to go well even before it happens. Even days before it happens. It's not that I'm a fatalist, it's that I know what I am looking for.

I guess I just know that I won't really feel anything for a guy because he's not what I REALLY want, you know? But I still keep going on these meetings because I think it will be different and the "I never thought I'd like someone like him, but I do" phenom will hit me. I keep thinking it'll be affected by the "looks meaning nothing" mentality with just one guy.

Le sigh- part deux.

Why Can't I?

So it's about quarter to nine and here I am all ready to meet up with Drew for coffee.

After much back and forth, and the weather and what not. We have decided to go for it.

Might as well get this over with.

Sigh.

Come See About Me

Well, the weather outside is frightful.

And tonight I was supposed to hang with Drew. Honestly, if it's not one thing, it's another.

It took me from door to door 1.5 hours to get home from class and I was pissed!

I was so hungry that when I got home, I totally binged on Oreo cookies. You know how I do.

So back to Drew. We were supposed to hang out tonight, see a movie and what not. Nothing special, but our conversation before I went to bed was a little shaky. A little odd even, but I wasn't ready to write him off. He's so fun to talk to and I knew that we wouldn't be attracted to one another, but whatever. I dunno what was drawing me to it because I always vowed I would never love someone just to pass the time.

Either way, the weather is crazy and I just got off the phone with Drew who said he was leaving work. We talked for 20 minutes. Daytime minutes told me to hang up ASAP. But when we last left off, he was leaving work and he'd call me when he got home so we could meet up. He even invited me to this French Social thing where a bunch of French people get together and hang out. Too weird for me. But cute idea.

I also talked to Matt back and forth via txt on the way home. He quit his job today and he'll be starting downtown on March 15. I can't wait, I'm so happy for him.

Ten minutes after I hung up with Drew, I had a voicemail from him. Turns out, he went back to the office because it was too crazy outside. I guess that meant the date was off. Or was it...10 minutes after he made it back into the office, he said he was making a break for it again. I guess he really must be excited to hang with me.

Before I knew it, something came flllllying out of my mouth. I offered to take the subway down to meet him if he wasn't too tired after work and he got home on-time. Fuck Fuck Fuck. He agreed. Shit.

I did some more L.A. research. I don't know how I'm ever going to get a work permit.

Now what to eat for dinner?

L.A. State of Mind

So Matt got a new job here in the city, which means he might be moving into a new condo, which means that I might be out of this hell hole as early as June. AH.

But on another note, I got an offer to go to L.A. in June for 7 months. I won't say for what just yet, but it's something I'm considering.

But, alas, here stand my problems:

1. I need to break my lease.
2. I need to break my lease.

If I can find some way around it, or out of it, then I might just be premature and say I'm going to L.A.!

So here is how the plan is going into motion.

My roomie said she can't afford it on her own so the threat to kick me out doesn't stand, so I'm fucked. I arranged a secret meeting with my realtor/landlord to ask him to let us out of the lease at 6 months. I will be paying for an extra money of not even being here, but who cares. That's about 4 months to find new tenants, and if not, for him to let me sublet my room. That way, she might not even want a new roomie and she would just pay for it all herself.

But in case that backfires, my roomie has been seeing this new guy and he's fucking old, but wants to get married desperately, at his mom's wishes. I found this all out via Rhi, who is her closest confidant. Originally, we thought we were fucked, but now, after she told him that her new man might be 'the one', we're back on track. Rhi and I spent at least an hour egg-ing her on and telling her he's the one and what not. If we can get them engaged or married, I'd have no choice but to move out or we could find new tenants to assign our lease.

Rhi and I have joined forces (even though we're best friends) on our biggest mission ever.

We have 94 days to get them engaged, and get me out of my damn lease.

Either that, or tell her about my offer and that she has three choices:
1. Let me out of the lease.
2. Let me sublet.
3. Help me help us get us out of the lease. (and she can move in her with 'man')

Other than that, B is on his way back from Europe, and Shawn and I have been talking but nothing special. Haven't even talked with Adriano.

But I'm too focused on my new task and finishing this school term off before guys!

So, I'm not saying this will happen and it's gonna be hella-crazy to find out what does. But it's a nice thought that I might be living in the Hills in 3 months.

Touch Me In The Morning...

Hey y'all,

Just a quick note while I have a second.

I talked to B for about 2 hours last night. I told him exactly what went down and I didn't want to invade in her personal space.

About two weeks ago, I had secretly found out that B and I have mutual friends. So the short of the long of it is that I secretly tried to find out information about him and see what his deal was.

Needless to say, the plan backfired, and he found out. So I had some 'splain' to do.

In the end, B asked me out and wanted us to be upfront with each other. He's not looking for a relationship, and I doubt I'd fool around with him otherwise. So we'll have to see what happens next.

On a bright note, I had an amazing conversation with Matt after we finally got to sit down and talk to each other. I'm pretty sure I offered my hand in marriage, but we'll be divorced by the weekend. You know how it goes.

Alright, just thought I'd let you guys know.

P.S. Shawn sent me a txt message Night before he went to bed. What-the-fuck.

Elegiac

This morning was unlike any other.

I got a txt message, however, from some weird guy I've been talking to online. I must say...It was awkward.

Hey, I'm only so lucky to have someone like you interested in me.

That aside, nothing eventful happened. I got a txt from Shawn:

Someone's quiet today.

And then I finally managed to talk to him online. And, like predicted. This thing was over before it started. Apparently, he loves hanging out with me but can't get over the fact that I fooled around with his ex.

I knew that trying to convince him was useless. And I am not in the business of convincing people. He either wanted to be with me or not. If I can deal with the fact that he dated a guy who once upon a time made me feel so used and like an object, then he can deal with that other fact.

I couldn't tell: was it an excuse not to date me or was he being geniune? Was that his way of what I do to not get close to a guy that could make my life amazing? So many questions and it hurt me to think that my truth shot me in my own foot. Fuck sakes.

Besides, it was about me and Shawn, not me and his ex. I'm not gonna lie, it was a bit sad. Nothing has been quite the same for a while now, since I moved in with the crazy heifer actually. Was her unbalanced lifestyle affecting mine? Why does it even fucking matter?

Now the only guy to let me down next is B, though he won't be back for another week, so our story will have to wait.

But oh well, you win some, you lose most.

Love Hangover

Sunday morning was the worst. I woke up feeling like a piece of shit and I was pissed at my roomie for the crap she said about me.

At exactly 10:33 AM, she left for a business trip. I had one week to figure out what I was going to do, and how I was going to get there. I didn't even get a txt message from Shawn.

The rest of the day was my recovery. No matter how hard I try, I just can't shake the feeling that that I'm just being pure sadiddy sometimes.

Nikki called me and asked if I wanted to go to Yorkdale. Since I had nothing to do, and I was feeling iffy, I knew she would totally make me feel better.

After a day of shopping, with no results, and a cute lunch at Moxie's, Nikki, her sister, and Ryan really made me feel better.

During my little excursion, I got a call from Adriano wanting to hang out. Now this is a guy I have been going back and forth with since God knows when. After mulling over the idea, we made plans.

I took a little nap when I got home, from which Adriano woke me up, and we decided to go to a comedy show downtown on Queen West. Unlike the other times I had hung out with me, I was not nervous at all. I didn't even want to go. So as I struggled to get ready and leave my house, I took a quick look in the mirror: How the hell was I? The old me wouldn't even waste my time.

I hate the fact that I know I shouldn't feel like this, and that guys shouldn't matter as much. And I even hate myself for saying this, but I felt a little lonely. But Adriano was waiting.

The weather was nasty, first off. And I had nothing but a tiny coat on and some very thin shoes. I was pissed already.

Five dollars and one long hour later, the show was over. And I was about ready to slap someone. It was sooooooo BAD! Some cute parts, but for the most part, NO DICE!

A short streetcar ride later, we were at Franz's diner. Luckily the Oscars were on. I didn't get anything, but it was fun just watching a good show, for once.

As I got up to go to the washroom, I got a call from Johnny. As I took the call in the washroom lobby, and although he was drunk, it was like a total sign. It was fun to know that someone, somewhere...that sometime, it was good.

And as I got home that night, I knew it would be good again.

Saturday Night Divas

So after I tutored, I was tired as hell from the night before with Shawn. All I wanted to do was get home and get some sleep...and maybe a shower.

So I decided to go to Chinatown first and get these delicious Dim Sum custard buns (to all...Kim Moon Bakery on Dundas @ Spadina..HEAVEN).

Finally getting home at about 4 PM, I immediately changed my clothes and hoped onto the couch before my best came over. My roommate and he were going to see the Chantal concert at Massey Hall, and I had to admit I was slightly jealous.

Let me explain my roommate to you: late twenties, just got out of a ten year relationship that ended badly, and is trying to loose weight. A complete physical and emotional mess, I moved in with a complete slob and a total train wreck. But I love her. And I don't even know why because sometimes I doubt she feels the same way about me. We've been having many problems lately, especially with her cat that she promised she would get rid off and our lease clearly forbids. She's one of those people who think they are always ALWAYS the victim. So it's ever so hard to get through to them. So needless to say, it's a HUGE challenge. That girl got some issues.

Anyway, I was feeling completely drained from my roommate stress, school work, job stuff, and of course, the fact that I had met this great guy but I had already fooled around with his ex. It was all very much on my mind.

As the night went on, and I kept falling asleep and waking up, it was time to get ready. Shawn was supposed to be at Buddies that night, but in between our 100 or so txt messages, we decided that if we were both gonna be there, we would just run into each other. I couldn't risk it, so I put on the best outfit I had and went for it.

Nom was late as per usual. I couldn’t wait any longer. With my Vod-Ginger Ale in one water bottle, and ready to go, she called me to meet her at the station and bring her some "juice." I hated when she did this. Was 15 mins late and didn't even bother to call me. Schedules people, SCHEDULES!

When I finally got to the station, it was all good. I told her about some rooomie probs and she was giving me advice, and then I realized she didn't have any chaser. So naturally, I had to bust my ass off at a stop and run out to the top platform to get her some apple juice. It was fucking annoying.

We finally managed to make it to Buddies only to realize my best was not there. What the fuck, I thought as we waited outside for his ass for what seemed like fifteen minutes. It was here when I found out Nom had no money, as per usual, and said Rhi would cover her. Something he told me he found annoying when we all went out on Thursday night.

When Rhi finally arrived, we hurried into the club. As we were paying cover, he handed me sixty dollars in front of Nom. It was "Kill the cat" cash because my roomie said that if I wanted it out so bad, I should do it myself.

This is why it's annoying. It's not my cat to kill, nor is it my responsibility. I talked to her two seconds after she dropped Rhi off and she didn't even bother to mention it to me. And Rhi pulled out the cash in front of the broke ass bitch we love, who immediately wanted me to lend her 20 bucks. It's not my money to lend. I told her straight away no deal. I'm not gonna give her cash that's not mine to give. And she got pissed, of course. Started talking smack about how I was being rude and been in such a bad mood these last few days, and I'm hurting people around me. It was all bullshit and she even tried to pull the "I'm going home" bit, which sent me over the edge. Had I REALLY not cared, I would have turned my back, checked my coat, and walked right to the dance floor without her ass. But I'm better than that. After I listened to her go on and on about how it wasn't about the money, we finally moved past it, or so I thought. And Rhi spent the night buying her drinks.

As soon as we turn out onto the dance floor, there he was. Shawn. I saw him but pretended not to see him. It was killer. Up until that point, I was all "que sera, sera" about it, but now after we had spent the last night together, the feelings hit me. But I was already too pissed I just wanted to dance.

After a while, we started texting back and forth to each other and it came out that I was in the club and so was he. So I got the courage to go up and say hello.

"Janet sings it,” I said smiling, responding to his last txt, as I walked up to him. He was dancing with a girl, his best friend's sister.

"You went to my high school" was the first thing that popped out of her mouth. I was wordless.

After making a few minutes of small talk, he seemed very much at a distance to me.

So I made my way back to my girls and told them straight away.

"It's not meant to be. It's too written in the stars."

The irony of Rhi's words haunted me. The irony of something being written in the stars was actually working against me. Was it fate that we were not meant to be? We were already so connected, how could it possibly work against me?

I made my way to a little corner to txt Tina. She was always there and we somehow always seemed to be on the same emotional level. I stayed there for 20 mins. It's like I went into hiding and didn't want to come back out.

I had run away back home for a few days, but it seems like that didn't solve my problems, and they just kept coming back.

Nom had left by this point, and Shawn txted me that he was leaving and wanted to say bye. I barely got anything from him. Hell, even the high school chick gave me a kiss on the cheek. It was getting to me. BIG TIME.

Shortly afterwards, Rhi and I opted to leave. We were sick of buddies, sick of men, sick of it all.

On the subway ride home, Rhi confessed that my roomie was talking shit to him about me again. We had gone through this once before and it seemed she still hadn't learned her lessons. Apparently, she was annoyed that she felt her furniture was being used, as well as her utensils and that if my friends want to say over...get this…maybe they should sleep on the floor. She fails to realize that this is half my apartment too, and only because I let her is her stuff all over the place. It was either get rid of it or have none of mine.

Things are getting shaky again, and I have no idea what's going to happen. As I walked out of the station, I felt a small tear come to my face. I can't help but think I made all the wrong choices. I told Shawn the truth and now things are weird. I moved out with a psycho I thought I could change, and now she wants me out if I don't change.

I don't know what to think or what to do. I felt nothing but emptiness.

Rhi never did get his money from Nom.

The X-Files

Last Friday was the first time in a long time that I had two dates back to back...with the SAME guy.

Shawn is great. He really is. When we were at the bar together, it was nice. I was a bit tipsy, so I was worried that I wouldn't find him as hot the second time around.

But as I got off at St. Clair station, and walked to his car. The excitement was exhilarating.
I wasn't nervous, and I wasn't worried. I was me.

As we walked into Blockbuster, it seemed natural for us to be together. As we trailed the aisle for a good movie, I was surprised to how well we got along and how accommodating he was to my needs. And it wasn't even the sexual flirtation. I felt like a teenager again.

After a quick trip to Sobeys, we picked up some pizza, Ginger ale (you know how I do), some chips for me, and M&Ms for him.

Back at his place (which was cute by the way) we watched the Perfect Man and Kinky Boots (both cute), and we talked a bit here and there.

Soon, as if it were natural, we crawled into bed together. After we talked for an hour, we finally started getting down to business. After some kissing, and touching, and what not, we talked some more.

As we got deeper and deeper into conversation, I found out that things might not be all that perfect. Turns out, i fooled around with his ex-boyfriend of two years...two times! And it just wasn't some random: it was pre-cum guy who had tried to fuck me bareback (or so it seemed), and who had spent an insane amount of time wine-ing and dining me. And then never talked to me again (and this happened twice).

This was the make or break point. Sitting there in the dark with him, I grew anxious. The one guy I was actually starting to like and I had already gone and did the nasty with his ex. Mother fucker.

He took me in his arms and told me to relax. It didn't matter to him, I was there with him now.

Soon it was 5:30AM and we were still awake, just talking.

And just like that, we fell asleep. With his damn cats all over me.

I woke up the next morning with his arms around me.

We watched Sister Act 2 and sang together (I know freaky), and after an hour, I started to get ready.

I was late for tutoring so I kissed him goodbye.

We didn't have sex that night. And he paid.

And I hate to say it, but it was kinda hot.

New Beginnings

Hello all!

Firstly, I want to welcome all of you to the blog.

Although there are some blogs out there about just sex. Or just love. Or just fashion. Or just whatever. This is all in one, wham-bam, exposed, stripped. It's Barenaked.

I will be chronicling my life and times as a Torontonian living life as it comes on his own, with my wild friends, hot parties, and, of course, crazy (and I mean C.R.A.Z.Y) roommate.

About me: I'm in my twenties. Wrapping up university. Working. Writing. Fashion-ing. Living.

Well, here goes. Clothing (and emotion) optional.

Take Two

When walking down Bloor Street, it is sometimes impossible not to stop and take a second look at a cute outfit, or a hot pair of shoes, or even the hottie who just passed you with the ugly girlfriend.

When waiting in line at the grocery store, it is impossible not to think about flipping through the tabloids that stare you in the face, only to pass them, turn around, and decide to give it a quick look as you wait to be checked-out.

When playing the dating game, it is even harder to resist the temptation of going back to review a certain play, or player, at a particular moment in time.

We spend our lives dwelling over our decisions. We take second looks at our fashion choices, our menus, our friends, our bank statements, television channels, web sites, and even our men. Some say it is because we are never satisfied. Others think it is because we are always searching for something more, something better.

Either way, we all do a take-two. We take a second look at our lives—the people in them, the things in them, and what makes them what they are. Just like movies have sequels, we always want to repeat, re-examine, or reincarnate another chapter in our lives. And just like sequels, they can either be really good—or really bad.

Amanda is your typical “take-twoer.” From “Cucumber Mike” to Dave, Amanda has done a take-two on everything in her life. Her major. Her minor. Her hair. Her shoes. Her job. But she is more notorious with her men. Amanda and Chris met one night long ago while she was out and about downtown. Chris was a computer science major in Waterloo on co-op with IBM in Toronto. Their connection was instant. But of course, with Amanda being the picky princess that she is, decided it was best that they became friends. As the months pasted, they met up in Montreal over the summer, went to movies, dinners, they had a real friendship.

“I can’t be with him. He’s so not my type,” she would tell me whenever I tried to bring up the possibility of them dating. He was obviously interested in her, and after meeting him, I knew he could be the one for her…at the moment anyway.

But once Chris stopped pursing her and showed interests in other women, and Amanda saw the possibility that he would not be hers, she stopped and had to do a take-two.

“I don’t know. I think I like him now,” she confessed to over lunch one day. I knew it. “But I can’t be with him. He’s so far; he’s not blonde or blue-eyed. But he’s so nice.”

She was making excuses not to be with him. Even when doing a take-two, there must be a reason for doing so. We get that sense that it was meant to be, it was written in the stars, that it’s fate. But then why do we hesitate?

Over at York, Danielle was telling me about her own take-two. Billy, her ex-fling at an old job,
was back for a repeat performance in their sequel. A drug dealer, player, and drop-out, Billy was everything Danielle did not need again. But this Billy wasn’t the same one. He was reformed, changed, a new person.

“He’s not like that,” she gushed in the library. “He’s real, he’s honest, and he wants me back. So I let him take me for a little dinner, a little movie, a little shopping spree. No harm in that. After all, my birthday is coming up.”

But something told me Danielle was doing a little more than a little nothing with Billy. She was re-considering him not only as a friend, but also as a potential lover. It was something Amanda, Ryan, and I didn’t want to see repeated.

Ryan was having a similar epiphany in Waterloo.

At 14, Nelson was the first guy Ryan ever had true feelings for. Although it was a young age, Nelson affected Ryan in ways that still move him. He represented a happier time when we didn’t have to worry about marks, paying tuition, or the dating game. One morning at 2 AM, I got the phone call.

“I have been trying to reach you all night,” he said as I wearily remembered missing all his previous calls. “I’m in town, I’m at Nelson’s house.”

Later that morning, when I had actually had a few more hours of sleep, I found out that Ryan and Nelson had starting chatting again. Out of the blue, Nelson decided to drive to Waterloo and bring Ryan to his stylish apartment at Bathurst and Lawrence for the night. So as I lay in bed while Ryan did the same 40 minutes away, I heard the story and the circumstances. With Nelson’s boyfriend in Montreal, and the feeling of loneliness on Ryan’s mind, it was only right that he was in Nelson’s bed four years later, doing a well overdue take-two.

All around me, it seemed, people were doing take-twos with old partners. So I got to thinking. If it wasn’t right the first time, what makes you think it will be right the second time around? Are we just searching to bring mementos from our past into our future? Why are we willing to take second chances or take second looks? Does it take the threat of another man or woman to make us do a take-two of something that is right at our doorstep?

Inspired by my friends’ newfound openness to sequels, I decided to do my own take-two. I had dated Sunny about a year ago, when after a painful and rather messy cut-off, I decided enough time had passed and I was ready to let him back in. One lazy Wednesday night, I gave him a call.

“I haven’t heard from you in such a long-time,” echoed the voice through the receiver. “How have you been?”

After what seemed like a great reconciliation, we decided to meet up for dinner and catch up on old times.

A few days later, as I was getting ready for work, I tried to look extra special because it was the night I was having a “friendly” dinner with Sunny. As I was about to leave, I noticed I had a new voicemail.

“Hey, it’s Sunny. Don’t forget about tonight. Call me at the office. I’m looking forward to it.”
My take-two might actually be the final take, I thought as I locked the front door.

Later that day, I tired calling him at the office and kept getting the annoying “administrative assistant.”

“Sorry, he’s in a meeting.”

“Sorry, he just stepped out.”

“Shall I forward you to his voicemail?”

I was beginning to worry. Was I going to be stood up? He wouldn’t with a cute voicemail like that.

As the day went on, I noticed I had yet another voicemail.
“Hey, sorry I missed your calls. It’s been crazy. Call me when you leave work so we can meet up.”

At 8pm, I finished worked and gave him a call. Of course, I had some time to think over the possible scenarios and decided I would walk out to the bus shelter just in case. As I dialed his number, I saw the bus parked while the driver had a cigarette.

Voicemail.
Take-two. Voicemail.

I was interrupted. “Are you taking this bus?” asked the driver.

I tried one more time before answering. Voicemail.

As I got on the bus, I looked at my reflection in the window and realized I had been such an idiot to think this would ever work. Take-ones end for a reason. Sequels fail at the box office for a reason—because they just plain sucked. I rode the bus home that night, wondering why I ever thought I could get away with a re-make of a bad original.

As for my friends, they all had realizations of their own.

Ryan realized that Nelson and him were better off as friends due to the fact that they were just two completely different people now. Nelson was almost married and not nearly as attentive as he was before (mainly because their “friendship” was a secret), and just because Ryan was happy four years ago, he is now older and wiser, and is equally happy realizing he is better than
that.

Danielle realized that Billy was still just the same old Billy with a few less pounds. And even after a two hundred dollar gift card from the GAP for her birthday, it couldn’t erase the memories of why it ended the first time. That, and because she discovered the girl he said he stopped dating apparently was not aware of it.

And for Amanda, she needed proof. One night, after careful consideration, we missioned to Waterloo. She decided that she needed to know for sure and couldn’t speculate anymore. Out in the dark in front of his student ghetto, Amanda took a serious second look at Chris. From the light of the street lamp, she saw for the first time he was everything she wanted. So, from one take-two, came the happiness Amanda had been waiting for. It is now only a matter of time before they get together.

As for myself, I realized that take-twos are better on paper than they are on the big screen. Keep the photos in the photo album, and not on the coffee table, and delete old voicemail messages, and “I miss you” e-mails. But don’t get me wrong, one in four isn’t bad. But think about it.

If we never did take-twos when walking down Bloor Street, standing in line at the grocery store, or when playing the dating game, we might end up missing out on a great sale or some good gossip, and we would no longer need the phrase “ the one who passed us by,” because we wouldn’t let that happen, now would we?

The 5 Needs

“If you look, you’ll never find,” commented my friends Danielle, Roy, and Amanda on our usual Thursday night out. “It’s just common sense. It always comes when you’re not looking.”

As I walk through the halls and corridors on campus, I can’t help but notice all the couples everywhere I turn. If it’s not kissing, it’s hugging. If it’s not hugging, it’s holding hands. And if it’s not holding hands, it’s sitting on top of one another in the Scott Library. All of these couples, all of these people, each somehow found each other. They somehow fit. So I got to thinking: Why do we end up with a certain person? Do we really have to search to find? Or is it in the last place you look? What do we look for in a mate and why?

As I pondered these questions and the testimonials from close friends, I got to thinking about a criterion we use when deciding if a potential prospect is really worth pursuing. I call these “The 5 Needs.” Essentially, they are the five things we need when deciding whether or not a person is right for us. We base this decision on the qualities of mobility, loyalty, physicality, sexuality, and, of course, friendship.

To make things a bit easier, I will briefly define each of the five needs. Mobility refers to the ability of being able to see each other easily; usually by some form of transportation other the city bus (i.e. driving/car). Loyalty refers to your partner’s willingness to always be there for you, no matter what, and sometimes, at your beckon call. Physicality refers to the ability for your partner to turn-you-on! Sexuality (although similar to, but not like, physicality) refers to the actual act of being intimate with your partner. And lastly, friendship refers to the ability to form a common bond with one another, to have the chemistry you would with one of your close friends—secrets and all.

But if we have all these things, are we completely satisfied? In my experience, if we have a taste of one or two, we always seem to strive to get all five, because if what we have is good, then imagine how great having all five would be. Does this motivate us and keep us searching for ‘the one’?

Over at Seneca, Danielle was having her own crisis. She had prematurely broken up with her summer fling turned semi-serious fling, Brendan, to search for greener pastures. However, she realized that greener pastures don't exist in the real world, and that she missed him. One of the biggest obstacles in their relationship, and a deciding factor in the break-up, was that Brendan went to U of Guelph and Danielle was stuck in Toronto.

As I sat there, in the computer lab, Danielle was frantically trying to find the right words to say.
"I want to be with you....no, that sounds bad. Please call me...no, that sounds needy."
I interrupted "How about you just tell him you love him and want to be with him."
"No, I want him to say that. Ugh..if only he was closer, it would be so much easier. I want him back because I miss him, not love."

Or was she motivated by the "5 Needs"? Brendan had given her loyalty, friendship, sexuality, and physicality, and, because they worked together, mobility by default. And, for a while, it felt so good. But even then, he lived downtown and she lived a little north. Now, that Brendan was away, she thought, maybe mobility and sexuality would be the trade-off. And now that she had some, did she want more? Is there really such thing as having your cake and eating it to? Was it a summer fling? Did she have to face the fact that it was over?

In a last desperate attempt, Danielle wrote the e-mail.

But in Amanda’s case, she had five guys to fulfill the five needs. Steve, Dave, Micki, Adriano, and even our friend Roy were all enough to help satisfy some need she had. She had constantly mocked Danielle and I for searching too hard and often accused us of being pathetic when it came to matters of the heart.

Was this her way of being disillusioned? Did she use five guys for her five needs, but then deny that she even needed them? Confront her, and she would call you crazy, and even pathetic. But I think she, like many, refused to believe that we need a ‘partner’ to fulfill and complete us. You could say she had a lot of pretty, pretty boys that she calls friends. Amanda didn’t need any one person to complete her, she just needed several persons.

And what about me? All of my partners had not fulfilled me, and I am still alone. Was I only destined to have mobility and sexuality? Were those the only important things to me? Maybe what I was missing was loyalty, and friendship, and physicality. But since when did five minus one equal zero? If I didn’t have all five with the people I was with, then is that why I’m still searching, and technically defined as single? Perhaps not having all five can create an equally loving relationship. If so, it wasn’t for me. If so, how long would it last for them?
I had always purchased the package before seeing what was inside of it. Maybe I needed to take a break from the esthetics of love and focus on the feeling of it. Were all my guys just there because I tried to do it ‘Amanda style’?

"Looking for it won't help you find it," commented Amanda on our way home. "I don't need a man in my life because I am independent." No, because you have five of them, I thought, but I dared not say it. I just sat there and looked at all the couples crossing Pond Rd. in front of me.

What are we all ultimately searching for? Is love the goal of life?

So maybe it will take a lifetime to find the answers to certain questions, or to find all our needs fulfilled in one person, but in the meantime, I know there is someone, or something, out there. If we just keep looking, maybe one day we’ll find.

Vintage piece: If the shoe fits

They say shoes are a woman’s best friend. Shoes are also gay man’s best friend. Although I’m not your stereotypical-wait-for-me-while-I-get-my-murse gay guy, I love my men. But I also have another great love: my shoes—naturally. But what happens when the shoe you find yourself falling in love with is on someone else’s foot?

They call the shoe I’ve been falling in love with Adrian, and they call the foot he’s on Ricardo. I came across Adrian one week in January when he kept messaging me on a site that I had posted my picture on about a year ago and had been using on and off ever since.

“Hey there, what’s up sexy? Where are you in the city?” read his message.

He’s hot, I thought, so why not? I checked his profile: “Happily in a relationship and happily welcome friends.” The idea repulsed me. Like many who have had their share of the dating scene and wanted to get somewhat serious, I was through looking for friends; I want real love bitch. No deal, I thought. It was just another sign that this real love would not be found online.

Two messages and a week later, I had forgotten about Adrian’s profile and decided to talk to him. I mean, he had sent me three messages. And that was the start of my obsession with the must-have shoes of the season.

Adrian turned out to be a really great guy. Our conversation was effortless, flowing from topic to topic, likes to dislikes, and the occasionally flirting, as much as there could be on MSN, of course.

“Do you live alone?” I casually asked, hoping a hot make out session after a great first date would be in order.
“Sadly, no. I live with my boyfriend, Ricardo.”

Excuse me? Boyfriend? I quickly rushed to open his profile and saw those three words staring at me: …Happily-welcome-friends.

The next day at lunch I told Amanda the news. “And after all that, he has a boyfriend. How could I be so stupid as to forget he had a boyfriend? No wonder it took him three messages to talk to me. He only got threw to me when I forgot.”

“Don’t get involved. Nip it. And nip it now,” she commented and sipped her bottle of water. I knew that was all she had to say.

Over on the west side, my friend Tina was singing a different tune. “Go for it, what have you got to lose. But don’t fall for this boy, because I’ll tell you right now: He won’t leave this Ricardo fellow for you. It never happens. I know.”

So I got to thinking: Can you ever wait around for prince charming? Could anyone ever really change their mind? Does it ever work out in the end? After all, it had only been a couple of days; I might not even like the guy.

Almost a week had passed, and I still hadn’t found one thing to justify a reason for not talking to the guy. I had to face it, I actually liked him. Is that crazy? I didn’t even know him. What I did know, was that his relationship, one that has been going on for two years and five months, was not going well at all, and the two lovers were having a difficult time admitting to one another they were just roommates. Nevertheless, I was not at ease. Our conversations finally had some sexual innuendos added into them. But what would happen if we met? Was I ready to be the other woman? Could I be the other woman? Could I try on the shoe and not buy it?

They say you can be madly in love with a man you’ve never talked to. You will assume all their personality traits, become jealous or have your days ruined even though he doesn’t know you. He can float from perfect to player to prick 10 times a day and you have never met. And with each transition, you will go crazy justifying his actions, or words at that.

That Sunday was my company’s annual employee get-together. The setting was a chic downtown lounge with all the right music, all the right food, and all the right fashion. I was no exception. It was the night I was meeting Adrian, and I was dressed to impress.

Tina, in her hot pink pumps, gave me one last piece of advice as I grabbed my coat. “If you do it, do it well. Because you never know.” She was drunk, but she was right. If I didn’t take my chance and try it on now, I might never see the shoe again.

Later that night, I was face to face with myself in his building’s buzzer directory, waiting for him to meet me in the lobby, liked we planned. And there we was, Adrian—the Adrian—like I had planned.

After spending a night out drinking hot chocolate, and walking the streets of downtown Toronto, he asked me if I wanted to see the view of the city from the roof of his apartment building. It was a breath-taking view, an emotional peak, and a realization low. The problem now was that I actually knew the man whose actions I had been justifying.


With him standing right in front of me, and the city all around me, I couldn’t help but think his boyfriend was three stories under me. I realized I couldn’t be the one who he cheated on his boyfriend with. I couldn’t be the one-night stand. Online, Adrian was everything I thought I wanted. In person, he was even more. I couldn’t bear the thought of being the mistress in our relationship; I would rather be the friend instead. So it was settled. As a grabbed a taxi at two in the morning and looked back into downtown Toronto, I had done the right thing. I had returned the shoe to its owner and saved myself from emotional debt.

The next day, I had a nice, long chat with Adrian. Even though I got rave reviews for my g-rated performance from the previous night, I knew it was best that we remained friends, for the time being. Adrian, his boyfriend Ricardo, and I.

And, in the end, if the shoe doesn’t fit, shut the fuck up, and walk on—you’ll eventually find your size.

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.

Extra! Extra!

The summer brings out either the best or the worst in people. From silly flings to engagement rings, everything seems to change.

However, some key things always manage to stay the same.

On a typical August night, I was already running late for dinner with Tina. I just go back in town for the weekend after spending several of many weeks working in small town nowhere Windsor, Ontario. As glamorous as it may sound, and even though the shopping in Detroit was amazing (Diesel tote bag and boots half off with killer exchange rate!), I was excited to be back home—for the weekend. I had been gone so long it felt as if I was disconnected from the city and from my friends.

As I walked out the front door, I was happy to see Tina had not changed.

“Hey!” I yelled as I got in, excited to see the new goodies Tina had picked up from her usual Saturday trips to Kensington.

She simply smiled. I knew something was up. Either she wasn’t feeling well, she had a bone to pick with me, or she had some really big (and juicy) news.

“Okay, so what did Marnie do?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
“Did you bring your Tumbs?”
“Not that either.”
“His name?”
“I’ll tell you over dinner, I’m starving.”

This must have be some big news, I thought, as we drove down Bloor.

Over on the North end, Ryan was getting some new information from old news.

Nelson and Ryan had not seen each other since January when they fooled around in Nelson’s apartment drunk off wine while his boyfriend was out of town.

“Nelson, gosh, it’s been so long,” said Ryan as he stood up to greet Nelson at Under the Sun.

It turns out that Nelson had moved into the area and gave Ryan a call, one of those ‘my boyfriend’s out-of-town on business’ calls, to which Ryan certainly did not object to…if the meeting was in a public place, of course.

After a few Martini’s, Ryan was starting to forget his “in public” rule. And fifteen minutes later they were speeding up Yonge Street.

“Do you like the new house?” asked Nelson as they walked into the 1.5 million dollar Aurora home. With a classic brick exterior, 40-foot kitchen and 11-foot ceilings, marble flooring, and an all-oak staircase, Ryan didn’t really know how to respond without sounding impressed. After all, it was Nelson, the guy who lived in a room of a condo of an Asian family a short four years ago and left love to be with money. Lucky bastard, thought Ryan.

On that note, “How much of this did you actually buy?” he responded coyly.

“Enough to know that I have the right to make love to you in any given corner.”

Over at Spring Rolls on Dundas, I was gearing up to get what I knew was big news spinged on me. After a few minutes of minor chatting up, me talking about my new work in Windsor, she about her new search for a meaningful fashion job, I couldn’t take it any longer.

“So I told the receptionist she’s been such a big he—”

And then she said it.

“Bruno.”

“Excuse me? What Bruno? Firstly, she’s a she, and it’s the receptionist we’re talking about.”

“His name is Bruno.”

I quickly tried to think of who it could be and no one came to mind. Jean, Marco, Doug. Nope, no Bruno. He must have been hot off the presses if I didn’t hear about him.

“Marnie’s friend.”

“Marnie’s friend? But she’s like eighteen.”

“I know.”

Wait. Stop the presses.

It turns out Tina had been fooling around with Bruno for about a week. It happened one night when he came over to see Marnie, Tina’s younger sister, who is, for the record, six years her junior. Bruno had a crush on Tina since he was freshman doing his homework at their house. The only reason it started was because Bruno has become legal and had to make a move on Tina, especially since he caught her at a time when she was getting uncomfortably single.

According to Tina, the way he grabbed her and kissed her was so hot that one thing led to another, and before she knew it, they were sneaking around from house to house fooling around during the week.

“Tina, it’s hot when you’re the babysitter inviting your boyfriend over when the kids are asleep. It’s not hot when you’re the babysitter sleeping with the kids.”

“Shut up! He’s a perfectly grown man. He does construction!”

“You want construction workers, there are dozens of men up in Woodbridge who do construction that are a little closer to your age range,” I pulled out my cell phone. “Here, I have a couple of numbers.”

“Put down the little black book.”

“Don’t say, Tina Marie Carmichael.”

She just looked at me with those sad eyes. I was too late.

Over in Aurora, Ryan was looking into a pair of hungry eyes.

Sex with Nelson was always the best when Ryan had a buzz off wine, but this time it just felt dull. No matter what had happen between them, this was beyond Ryan. He wasn’t going to play sideline story to a headliner.

“So I’m meeting with Miguel on Monday for lunch,” I told Ryan while we were shopping the next day. I could tell he didn’t approve. “Now before you say anything, we have tried to meet up several times in the last few months, but our schedules never work out. Either I’m away or he’s not back in town. So it has to be done, I need to see him.”

“Gosh, how long has it been since you last saw each other?”

“Like two and a half years.”

Miguel and I dated about four years ago, when I was considerably younger, and he was considerably unaware of my age. I had been judging Tina this whole time when I had been in a situation similar only four short years ago. At that time in my life, Miguel was my love, my all; I would have done anything to stay with him. But with time, I realized that we weren’t ready to with one another at that point in our lives and I just had to let him go. We still, as far as I’m concerned, love each other, but right now it’s not what we need.

Since I last saw Miguel, I’ve talked to him a few times here and there. Not much has changed besides the fact that he started law school, moved to a new city hundreds of kilometers away, and was practically engaged. Despite Ryan’s worries that every time I see Miguel, I’m sent into an emotional reminiscent spiral, I was excited to see him, to catch up on young times.

As I told Tina’s story over dinner, Ryan went from shocked to excited to happy for her. “As long as she doesn’t fall for him, then it’s all good, let her have her fun it’s summer.”

“But that’s the thing, I think she wants him as more than just whatever they are.”

“Well, I, for one, am proud of her. She’s really inspired me give things a chance. Like, with Nelson, I just kept thinking of the negative, I could only do so much besides telling him that what we do is wrong. If he still wants to go for it, and it makes me feel good, then power to me.”

As I walked home that night, I realized that maybe I had judged Tina too quickly. So I got to thinking: If Miguel had given me a chance back then, why shouldn’t Tina give Bruno a chance right now? You’re never too old to try new things, right?

The next morning, I woke up to a much anticipated text message.

Pick you up at 1:30 read the words across my phone screen and I couldn’t be have been happier.

As the time drew nearer, Miguel was at my house at exactly 1:37pm and, like old news, I wasn’t in his car until 1:57pm.

“Miggggg, sorry I’m late.” I laughed as I saw him in his sleek Gucci shades.

He smiled and put his hand on my head. “Some things never change.”

The ride to the restaurant was awkward, and it felt like after the filler questions like “How have you been?” and “What have you been doing?” the conversation seemed to sag.

As the afternoon went on, it felt as if we had nothing left to talk about expect for old times and of what could have been and what had been. He told me about his blissful days with the rebound who is still around after four years, and I told him about Sunny, BiGuy and all the ones in between. But something was missing.

And as he paid the bill, like old times, and drove me home, like old times, there was no goodbye kiss at the end unlike old times.

I always said that Miguel and I would be together in ten years. My whole reasoning behind the break-up was that we needed time to grow up and stop being kids. But have we reached the point where we’re ready to have our own kids? It felt like in all the growing up we did, our lives became so settled. Miguel was still my first love, but no longer the kind of guy I saw myself with in ten years. It took me two years, but I realized we were better left as old friends with new news. I was truly ready to let go of the old days and embrace what was next.

Jokingly, we scheduled another lunch date for two years later, but something deep down told me it might actually work out that way at the rate of personal and professional schedules as he drove off…in the same old red car.