if i could, i'd get lost tonight.

everything, everything, everything.

i'm so very lucky to have the friends i do. Cat, whose clockwork gears of vast intelligence and unconditional compassion and forgiveness, of brilliance and innumerable ideas seem to whir audibly when i'm near to her. Alison, whose careful thoughtfulness and reflection, whose intricate logic and precise ability to name the unnameable cast unwavering light for my thoughts to become clear in. Steph, whose nonjudgmental nature and tiny beautiful creations, whose selflessness and bravery quietly make themselves known through a glowing, crackling cable from her heart to mine. Ferron, whose deliberate words and never-closed embrace, whose never-blushing laughter allows me to speak uncensored when i'm seated next to her, our touching knees a tiny physical manifestation of our ability to always be together in one way or another.

and beyond these friends, there are the acquaintances who have taught me things i didn't know i needed to be taught. Rachel, my very first love, who i reunited with a week ago. we spent hours in the sun by a hill we once tumbled down together in the thunderous rain (holding hands and unable to contain our cackling laughter). she told me to not be afraid of doing things differently than i thought i would. told me that i didn't have to tie myself to half-promises i made to myself as a teenager. she spoke about her life and love in a far-off country and how, with nearly nothing, she has become unwaveringly happy and peaceful. even in the worst of times.

Adam, who i barely knew, spent a night with me on a fire escape and showed me that i am not alone - in my hatred and fear of my body, in my need for forceful reminders to reunite my body and my spirit, in the aimless and wandering annals of my strange brain. we said goodbye feeling healed and whole.

thankyouthankyouthankyou.

unexpected fortune.

has it been long enough since i last wrote in here?

this has been the best summer of my life. which seems totally naive, i'm sure, as a non-friendly acquaintance accused me of being when i expressed my joyful anticipation of starting a family.

but it's unbelievably true.

my last few months in toronto were hellish. my eating disorder was symptomatic. i couldn't muster the courage to end a relationship i hadn't been present in for months and months. i begged so many psychiatric institutions to help me and was repeatedly turned away and ignored to the point where i ended up in the hospital on more than one occasion. i don't mean to sound precious or melodramatic - this is not an exaggeration. i was so, so miserable.

i went to my hometown to live with my parents because i couldn't simply couldn't survive in toronto anymore. after three days in saskatoon, i checked myself into the psych ward and was handed a new diagnosis and two new meds by two almost comically cold and stoic psychiatrists. much to my surprise, they helped me enormously.

my parents took me to israel for my sister's wedding. i spent four days in a beautiful, weird, and scary country with my beautiful, weird sister. it became apparent to me just how much she has taken care of me and taught me so much. her and her husband restored my ability to believe that a caring, mutually protecting relationship is possible. i ended my unhappy relationship the next day - perhaps not under ideal circumstances, but in a way that made me feel unexpectedly whole.

i returned to saskatoon with my dear brother-in-law's assurance that my basherte or basherter was on her or his way. while appreciating this very much, i was pretty confident in spending an undetermined amount of time alone.

then, through a guilty and heartfelt apology to a potential acquaintance in toronto whom i had repeatedly snubbed, i started building a careful and strange long-distance friendship. we sent letters with hastily scrawled drunken post-scripts; silly half-confessions that neither of us could confidently disclose in sobriety. and then there were phonecalls, midnight phonecalls during which we'd read to one another and shyly, metaphorically scuff our feet in embarrassed tenderness.

and then, we were in love. unashamedly, we planned our future children's names. our home together. he came to visit me and we spent every waking moment with our hands interlocked.

in a little over two weeks, we'll be living together in a beautiful old house in toronto. i have no delusions that it will be easy: i'm not exactly financially stable and toronto life will once again be taxing and anxiety-inducing. but i am completely sure that we will be okay together; that we'll keep each other safe and close.

i can't believe my unbelievable fortune in finding this person who i love so wholly, who makes me feel that i am capable of navigating adulthood, no matter how much struggle there will be, financially and emotionally. someone who makes me feel confident and competent, as an artist, a creator, as a future wife and mother. someone i am able to help feel less anxious, less self-conscious, and more confident in his unbelievable skill and genius as a writer and human being.

i've never felt so beautiful and strong and safe in my entire life.