I'm going to go home soon. Home to Toronto, I mean.
This trip to the homeland has been horrifically, tamely painful. I guess what I mean is that I didn't cry, but I did shake a tonne, sitting alone at a table in the Roastery with my back to the biggest heartbreak of my life. I had a short conversation of polite, bitten-off sentences punctuated by a terse goodbye.
Oh and then I wrote a fucking ridiculous pseudo-cryptic paragraph about (above).
I was going to say "I don't just think about the gradients and shades and mechanics of feelings", but that actually is all I do. And I'm not even good at it!
My beautiful friends opened their arms and let me run into them. Thanks guys. Seeing these people really scared me, because I love them so much and I kind of forgot that I did until I laid eyes on them. Until we were halfway through talking about how much the students' union sucked and even though it was a totally mundane conversation I wanted to burst into tears and hug them. Until I got home, nose frostbitten and jeans frozen from cold and understood that I had just seen them for the last time in months (maybe longer).
Maybe best of all, I made a new friend. A beautiful girl who makes beautiful things and is vulnerable in the same way I am. A girl who, last night, snuck a camera into my face, the flash blinding me in an unsuspecting expression, then threw her head back and laughed maniacally. She is six years older than me and that partially makes me sad, because it is going to take me six years, probably, to get wise(r).
I will be back in four days and I will need familiar faces and potlucks and lots of hand-holding to make me feel sane and whole, okay?
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