Monday, April 21, 2008

the view from over there (but i can't get there from here)

I am trying to look at it from his perspective, because his view of the world is so much different than mine. It is almost as if we think and exist on two different planes most of the time. There are points where we overlap, but those are always in the physical present. And when we talk about relationships or needs or wants we do not even speak the same language. It would be like me trying to have a conversation about same sex marriage with a devout catholic. We could never understand each other because the starting points of our ideologies do not even acknowledge the other exists. I would be running off at the mouth about the virtues of my new shampoo and he would just look at me and scratch his big, bald head.

And say I was even willing to talk about what I need and what I want, it would not fit his requirements. The personal neediness and the worldliness of it all would overwhelm him. He would hear me out, even invite the discussion, but he has no ability to fulfill my needs (which may be bottomless after all), and likely no inclination.

I could no more drag that confounding and lovely Buddhist so-called boyfriend of mine into my planned and defined idea of a relationship than he could catch me with his own loosely woven and unreliable net.

It is a lesson in love and acceptance. That, and being realistic. And now it is my turn to try my best.

Sunday, April 20, 2008

31 x 365 geoff

It is pronounced "Joff" despite what other people tell you. You are the only guy I flirted with in 13 years, but then only barely, and only because it was so easy to talk to you, and your wife (who I like very much by the way) was nice to my (then) husband, and many weren't. I had the most breathtakingly honest conversation I have ever had with a man (where there was no sex involved) with you and I felt that was a great privilege. But I do have to say now - what the hell are you doing? Make up your mind already, and make it up good. This is ridiculous. You are driving her slowly crazy, can you not see that? Smarten up!

now that's better

you: you tell me something nice.
me: I love you.
you: I love you too.

That's better. Somehow not enough, but better. And that is entirely my problem.

Thursday, April 17, 2008

random conversations

You: I am just that guy you love until you find the next guy to love.
Me: But I will love you forever.
You: I will want to fuck you forever.

Me: Say something nice to me.
You: You are really clean and you always smell like soap.
Me: That’s it?

Me: Do you see yourself living alone forever?
You: Why not?
Me: Really? You are ok with that. Just living alone for the rest of your days?
You: Sure. I mean there is no room here for anyone else in this apartment. Where would she put her stuff?

You: What I do not want is this to become the yearly Christmas card.
Me: Then don’t let it. Haven’t you stayed friends with women you have slept with?
You: Not the ones I have been in love with.

You: You are helping me get away from my content single-guy life.
Me: Why not just stay with it if you are content?
You: Because it is stopping me from having a meaningful relationship.
Me: So?

Me: I am just minding the gap. [In our relationship and inability to communicate]
You: But the gap is so much smaller right now. [Speaking literally and geographically]
Me: That’s odd because to me it seems even wider than usual. [And to think I thought it couldn’t get any wider.]

And my personal favourite:

You: And that time you put pressure on me.
Me: About what?
You: We don't need to talk about it.
Me: No really, what? I don't know what you are talking about.
You: That weekend.
Me: I thought we had a plan. I had it in my calendar in pen.
You: Well I didn't think it was written in stone.
Me: No, it was written in pen.

Monday, April 7, 2008

30 x 365 my sister

I cannot recount here 41 years of always getting along and you making every exception in the world for me that you would not make for others ( I think you picked that up from dad). So instead, the description of a weekend in Montreal might illustrate aptly. Two perfect French bistro meals, always seated at the counter, with cocktails, wine, and dashing, attentive, flirty waiters. Six perfect chocolates from Chloe's: cardamom, figue et balsamic, orange, basil, and two ginger. One lovely shiny chic perfect trench coat. The Cuban exhibit. A small perfect European hotel on Saint Denis. But mostly this, over breakfast:
me: what are you listening to these days?
you: Hawksley Workman
me: me too!
And that is perfect.

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

29 x 365 Christian

Sometimes I need to be hit over the head. We got separated at the same time and you moved in around the corner. Your charming little daughter thinks my son is lovely (which he clearly is). They are adorable together. When you were still married it was you, and not your wife, who took all the kids out. In the world of play dates this makes you amazing (a sad commentary about how little we have moved ahead) - like the Prom King in that movie. I thought you looked handy and it has recently come to my attention that you are, in fact, a plumber. Tonight you called and asked if I could look after your daughter for a few hours. I feel a reciprocity agreement in the drafting. Or at least the possibility of a homey little mutually beneficial arrangement brewing.

Sunday, March 30, 2008


I will never figure this out. I have changed my mind every hour every day every every week for the past year. We have broken up more times than you will ever know. And if you did know you would think I was banana cakes. Which I am. Where you are concerned.

Why I cannot call you back:
1. I need to break up with you (for good) and I am not quite ready. I would like to suspend the disbelief for a little longer. Maybe for so long that by the time I do get around to calling you back and breaking up with you (for good) I will no longer care or remember.
2. I will go into the call with all those nonchalant intentions, but likely end up wigging out a la Carrie Bradshaw.
3. I told you if you could not figure it out I was so done here and I know you have not figured it out. I know you've got nothing.
4. Frankly I am more than a little pissed. This is trying your best? Really? Why didn't you just let me go the first time?
5. I might cry. I will cry.

All those years that you said were difficult and you were drowning your sorrows? These are my difficult years and I am trying not to drown. And you are a distant shore that keeps disappearing.