Crossed Wires & Extra Goodbyes

We are sitting in The Italian Market; my favourite little place for lunch. Waiting for our food to come and fighting over sections of an old newspaper. After a week of awkward hugs and staying up late to avoid going to bed we are finally reaching equilibrium. Until the conversation turns to Toronto and he drops his bomb:

“Well, call me when you get settled and we’ll see…”

I choke on my Sprite. 

“We’ll see what?” Please don’t say it, please don’t say it. I mentally cross my fingers.

“We’ll see about me coming down, it would be easier to move the-”

My horror struck look must have stopped him in his tracks because he’s just staring at me and I can’t wipe my face clean. Here–where I had just packed up our past in neat little packages fit to travel–he has trampled through; bursting seams and reaking havoc. He is a four year old child, seizing a possession and running away, just out of grasp screaming “Mine! Mine! Mine!”

But, I’m not anymore. And now he finally knows too. I hope he knows now, too.

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11 thoughts on “Crossed Wires & Extra Goodbyes”

    1. So much! There’s nothing I like more than an extremely hairy man. Just call me sasquatch-chaser. But then again, smooth like a peach? I’m intrigued.

      Also, I write glimpses… don’t get greedy now.

        1. I thought you said nearly body-hairless… there must be a little fuzz? nothing? Peaches are smooth-ish… stop messin with me.

          1. Aside from some barely-pubescent chest hairs and a happy trail, I’m pretty much androgynous, bodyhair-wise. So, yeah, I’ve got the fuzz that comes with being human. I was just yanking your chain.

        1. Will do, my friend! Then we can toast to the life long friendship we’ve shared and all the bowling games I beat you at. So beautiful.

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