The Following Fool

2012-02-10T22:09:00.001-05:00

It got very scary and real at about 8:45 this evening.

Or the whiteness that your pen could write

2012-01-03T12:03:00.002-05:00

To be honest I didn't hear too much music this past year, but here goes:

My Top 10 Albums of 2011 (alphabetically):

Austra - Feel It Break
Beirut - The Rip Tide
Braids - Native Speaker
Danger Mouse & Daniele Luppi – Rome
The Joy Formidible - The Big Roar
Hey Rosetta! – Seeds
Miracle Fortress - Was I The Wave
Peter Bjorn And John - Gimme Some
The Rural Alberta Advantage – Departing
The War on Drugs - Slave Ambient

Honourables:
Chemical Brothers – Hanna score
Childish Gambino – Camp
Deftones – Covers
Destroyer – Kaputt
Dream Jefferson - Punch Perm
Drive soundtrack

Lead the plot into some wild team-ups.

2011-11-20T01:13:00.000-05:00

Super Heroes: A Modern Mythology by Richard Reynolds - This one kept popping up in the bibliographies of Comic and Super-hero studies. A short book which is probably the guy's thesis, and is a little dated from its 1992 origins, but still quite insightful. I just wish there was better examples than The Dark Knight Returns and Watchmen.

You have been disappointed in love but a better woman will replace her.

2011-11-14T01:04:00.000-05:00

Desperadoes by Ron Hansen - A western that I have meant to read for years. My Dad gave me my first Ron Hansen book and I thank him for it everytime I think of him. Hansen's first novel, it is the fictionalized first person account of the famed Dalton gang and their daring train and bank robberies.

Because the character and comic book offered a grand and triumphant vision of Afrofuturist blackness...

2011-11-08T00:55:00.000-05:00

Super Black by Adilifu Nama - I stumbled upon this book while browsing Facebook one day, saw one of my favourite comic characters and knew I had to read it. Nama, a professor of Africa American Studies, does a pretty good job of analysing all the major black superheroes in comics, TV and film. Some pretty good insights and criticism.

All the emotion I thought was dead rushing at me.

2011-11-02T00:49:00.001-04:00

Start Shooting by Charlie Newton - Picked up and advanced copy of this Chicago noir. Had high hopes of a good pot-boiler, but although this started out with promise of guns, gangs, drugs and corruption it soon turned silly with Japanese bio-weapons and a Viet Nam revenge saga. Blergh. I think I want my money back.

When you die, you feel as though there were some subtle change...

2011-10-27T12:52:00.004-04:00

Sum by Dave Eagleman - Book Club Pick! Forty-some odd visions of the afterlife. Some worked, but a lot didn't. It is the kind of book that makes you go Hmmm, but doesn't really stick with you.

No mention of his suspicion that this had something to do with things he could no longer ignore...

2011-10-22T00:41:00.002-04:00

The Coast Road by John Brady - I fell in love with the Matt Minogue mysteries a long time ago and probably still read them out of habit more than anything, but they always seem to hit the right notes and make me miss my visit to Ireland.

I don't know, the guy was beige wallpaper

2011-10-19T12:41:00.000-04:00

10.

Agent X by Noah Boyd - Needing a bit of an escape and not being ready for another Lee Child I went back to Noah Boyd and his ready-for-screen thrillers starring Steve Vail, former FBI super hero & current bricklayer. This one did not disappoint. Fun puzzles, lots of action, hints of cold-war spying and eye rolling romance. Quick and fun little read.

Without bicycles, my life would have taken a completely different path.

2011-10-13T12:27:00.000-04:00

11.

On Bicycles: 50 Ways the New Bike Culture Can Change Your Life edited by Amy Walker - I put in the subtitle, because I need you to know that this book is not 50 ways the new bike culture can change your life. It is 50 articles on bikes, bike culture and bike activism. The problem is that some are good and some are bad. Sure, to be expected, but the range of topics is too diverse and the editing is weak. Also, I don't need to read 35 people's different way to phrase 'bikes reduce green house emissions'.

Cause that night, swinging by candlelight in that cramped room, everything warring in me settled down.

2011-10-06T12:18:00.002-04:00

12.

Half-Blood Blues by Esi Edugyan - The everything nominated Canadian novel tells the tragic story of jazz band in Hitler's Berlin and occupied Paris. Well written, but not showy, it really paints an exquisite picture of time and place. And the dialogue shared by the men is like the music they created. Just a very good read.

So we sat in the starry darkness with each other and the whiskey.

2011-09-28T12:09:00.003-04:00

13.

Blue-Eyed Devil by Robert B. Parker - I am going to miss Robert Parker. I never thought I would have written those words, but there is something so entertaining about about his sparse prose and tight plotting. Blue-Eyed Devil is his last western starring Virgil Cole and Everett Hitch and it was as good as the first. Adios Mr. Parker.

The most ingenious library scientist of modern times...

2011-09-22T14:10:00.002-04:00

14.

The Icelander by Dustin Long - Bookclub Book! And boy was it too cute by half. A twee literary pastiche of a whodunit, it just doesn't really work. Some funny and/or good ideas, but nothing taken far enough to be good.

Ther are working up the steep slope of Cathedral Street...

2011-09-16T14:03:00.001-04:00

15.

Barnacle Love by Anthony De Sa - A first novel about the Portugese immigrant experience in Canada, it has sat on my shelf for quite some time. A lot of references to Newfoundland which I didn't know about. Heartbreaking, but well written.

Are you just being recalcitrant?

2011-09-08T13:54:00.002-04:00

16.

Split Image by Robert B. Parker - I came to Robert Parker very late in his career. The man had written over 60 books upon his death and was known as one of the kings of American crime fiction. This is one of the Jesse Stone novels. I got into Jesse Stone simply because of the Tom Selleck TV movies filmed in Halifax. Yup, Tom Selleck. Anyway, all the books are a little formulaic and more dialogue than anything, but they are fun.

Don't leave off the mayonnaise as it's a favorite topping in Maine for good reason.

2011-09-02T23:48:00.001-04:00

17.

The Great American Hot Dog Book by Becky Mercuri - Boy oh boy, do I love a good hot dog. Saw this book and had to buy it 'cause it was cheap. 150 pages of history, recipes and notes on various hot dog stands all over the US. All I want is a chili dog now that I think about it.

It was a voice that could never quite disentangle itself from the text or remain truly omniscient in spite of the mocking detachment.

2011-08-25T13:41:00.003-04:00

18.

Supergods by Grant Morrison - I used to love Grant Morrison's comics and then I didn't and then I did again. This is part memoir, part history, and part treatise. He has some weird ideas and a bit of an ego. I am not sure it really works, but there are some crunchy bits. They are just harder to find than they should be.

I reread it several times, but had no immediate revelations as to its meaning...

2011-08-19T13:02:00.002-04:00

19.

Ready Player One by Ernest Cline - Vacation Book! If you grew up playing video games in the 80s this the book for you. If you know what a TRS-80, an Atari 800, or Zork is then this is the book for you. If you are a geek or a nerd then this is the book for you. This is a fun fast nerdy speculative hero tale that has a little bit of something for everyone, but the cultural touchpoints may be too much for some.

There would have been no compatibility issues either.

2011-08-11T12:57:00.002-04:00

20.

The Enemy by Lee Child - Vacation Book! And No. 8 in the Jack Reacher series. Something light for the trip. It is a flashback book, showing us an episode in Reacher's past. Pretty good thriller although a little predictable. Series is still quite fun.

The book fell open to the page she knew it would: the crease in the spine was permanent.

2011-08-05T12:48:00.002-04:00

21.

The Chinatown Death Cloud Peril by Paul Malmont - I love pulp. This is probably one of the truest things said about me. I have owned this book for years and finally got around to reading it. Basically, it is the story of three famous pulp writers and their pulp adventure. It is pastiche, without a doubt, but the fact that the author took the time to write each character's adventure like that author would write was endearing. Lots of cameos too.

All of that - the measurements of alcohol in the brain, the injuries, the behavior, the full context of those deaths...

2011-07-28T22:45:00.002-04:00

22.

The Poisoner's Handbook by Deborah Blum - Bookclub book! Well researched and well written short history of the birth of New York City's Medical Examiner's Office in the 20s and 30s. Blum paints a vivid picture of the two men that shaped the science that has almost become common place today and documents some of the more intriguing cases of poisoning they investigated.

Now that it was over, it made him feel bad.

2011-07-17T23:35:00.001-04:00

23.

Who Dares Wins by Chris Ryan - How do you describe a thriller that isn't thrilling? Plotting that harkens back to the worst of 80s straight to video actioners. Or as Luke would say, "What the hell!?! He boinked a reporter and blew up some missles." When I told someone at work I was reading a Chris Ryan book he said, "My Dad read one. He thought it was rubbish."

Uncle Thoby decided he wanted to make his own prosthetic arm.

2011-07-13T21:01:00.000-04:00

24.

Come Thou, Tortoise by Jessica Grant - This is one of those books that has been floating around me for a couple of years. A staff member recommended it to me. And then my Dad recommended it to me. And then I recommended it to people without reading it. Then a member of my bookclub recommended it to me. Well, I finally got around to reading it. It is good book. Good story, quirky yet poignant characters, and a heart-tightening finale. Highly recommend.

As loud as their sound might be, their image will always be louder.

2011-07-07T20:54:00.002-04:00

25.

Why AC/DC Matters by Anthony Bozza - A short book, almost an article, by Rock journalist Bozza on the significance of AC/DC. It is fun and a pretty good argument as to why they are the best rock band in the 20th century. With quotes from Slash, Tommy Lee and a number of music professors he goes pretty far in proving his point.

Late on a rainy night in 1947...

2011-07-03T20:48:00.002-04:00

26.

Death of a Lesser Man by Thomas Rendell Curran - The third in the Eric Stride mysteries by Newfoundland author Curran. I read the other two, thought the first was pretty good. The second was kinda boring. Well this one is back to the pretty good. Well researched take on WWI vets and their lives after the Great War. Wonderfully painted characters except, unfortunately, for the protagonist. He is two dimensional. Also, my father appears in this book. He is not two dimensional.

Although nicknamed 'Old Reliable' in his prime...

2011-06-30T13:34:00.000-04:00

27.

Beyond the Shadow of the Senators by Brad Snyder - A history of Negro League baseball in Washington, DC. It reads more like a biography of player Buck Leonard and journalist Sam Lacy. Nice to read about all the work done in the press to integrate baseball long before the 1947 occurence, but the book comes up a little short, almost like doctoral thesis.

He had one of the quickest bats I've ever seen , and was a dead-pull hitter who feasted on fastballs.

2011-06-25T13:25:00.003-04:00

28.

Heroes of the Negro Leagues by Mark Chiarello & Jack Morelli - I wanted to read this book after a friend grabbed the last one on a recent visit to a used book store. So I had to order one new. It is a repackaging of a collection of watercolour trading cards with beautiful art and short bios of 60 Negro League players, like Cool Papa Bell, Satchel Page and Josh Gibson. Fun read.

When I die they'll bury the blues with me. But the blues will never die.

2011-06-21T13:09:00.004-04:00

It took me almost a year, but I finally finished Boogie Man: The Adventures of John Lee Hooker in the American Twentieth Century, a very dense biography of my favourite bluesman.

I wish I had taken the opportunity to see him when I was in Montreal in the 2000, but I couldn't afford the price of admission. And on this the tenth anniversary of his death, that regret is more so.

It is a very good book, painting a complex picture of a remarkable musician and stellar man. Charting his entire career from the 40's through the dark times in the 70's and 80's to his rediscovery in the 90's, it was a remarkable story.

Boom, Boom, Boom, indeed.

The following spring, on the day of its unveiling in Boston Common, when it was discovered that someone had scrawled obscene words on the statue...

2011-06-16T14:28:00.002-04:00

29.

Damnation Alley by Roger Zelazny – After catching an old episode of Prisoner’s of Gravity, I was intrigued on reading Zelazny’s post-apocalyptic tale of the last Hell’s Angel’s suicide mission of crossing Damnation Alley from LA to Boston with a cargo of needed medicine. It isn’t hard to tell it was one of the quickest written novels in Zelazny’s career, but it is fun.

It began as just another evening of fantasy gaming.

2011-06-10T12:27:00.001-04:00

Years ago, in 1983 or 84, I was a bookish round boy who lived too much of his life in games, TV and imagination. One day, on a family trip to Bowring's department store I caught sight of a fantasy novel by Joel Rosenberg. Entitled The Sleeping Dragon, the cover intrigued me and the blurb on the back spoke to me like no other work of 'adult fiction' had to date. I asked my mother or father, not sure which, if I could get it. They said no as it was too close to my birthday.

Come Christmas morning, opening my presents in my stocking, I found the paperback I coveted so much in the bookstore.

I devoured that book. Probably being too young, some of the violence and themes disturbed me, kept me awake. But I loved it. I wanted to be these characters, to live this adventure.

As the years went by, the author wrote more adventures in the series and I read most of them, probably ending in the 90's when his direction differed from mine. But I always kept them in mind, rereading The Sleeping Dragon on more than one occasion and searching out all of them to give my nephew as present.

This week, this book came to me again. I wasn't sure why, but I felt the need to reread it, now being in my late thirties. Had it changed? I know I had.

It held up, being simpler, shorter and more hokey than I remember, but I still enjoyed it.

It made me reminisce. Nostalgia being a powerful force, I looked up the author on the web and read some sad news. He had passed away suddenly, only days within me having the whim to pick up the novel and read it again.

So, Joel, Mr. Rosenberg, where ever you are I want to say thanks. Thanks for teaching the value of humanity to a 10 yr old me.

Hiding, concealment, lying: that was not his temperament.

2011-06-09T14:26:00.001-04:00

30.

King of the World by David Remnick – More Ali. Remnick’s biography of Ali, Patterson and Liston during the early professional days of Ali’s career is exceptional. Critical and well researched, it truly paints a picture of Ali as the boy and the man.

It dropped on the floor and sounded exactly like a pound of steel hitting a plywood board covered with linoleum.

2011-06-03T14:21:00.000-04:00

31.

Persuader by Lee Child – Vacation book! And No. 7 in the Jack Reacher series. And I thought the last one was good. Persuader grabs you from the get go when Reacher mistakenly kills a cop during a kidnap attempt and the adrenaline just doesn’t let up.

From then on his music developed an increasingly urban rhythmic thrust, while his singing and harmonica playing remained both distinctive and downhome

2011-05-26T14:16:00.003-04:00

32.

Deep Blues by Robert Palmer – Vacation book! As I was preparing to go, I really wanted to read a history of Chicago blues. I looked far and wide at used bookstores for a good example. Deep Blues is more of history of the Blues done by biographing some of its most notable names, Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf, Robert Johnson, and Son House. It was good, but their wasn’t as much about Chicago as I would have liked.

He might inspire awe at his open desire to demolish an opponent, his sullen reluctance to cease beating on a man once the fight was stopped...

2011-05-19T14:09:00.002-04:00

33.

The Fight by Norman Mailer – Vacation book! Continuing with my Ali kick, I finally got around to reading this book that Stephen P. recommended to me so many years ago. Mailer’s descriptions are electric, but the book is often weighed down by his arrogance

One might think that with its wealth of treasures, the Metropolitan would be a prime target for New York's superpowerful crooks.

2011-05-12T14:02:00.002-04:00

34.

The Marvel Comics Guide to New York City by Peter Sanderson- I bought this a while back as a possible gift for a friend that loves comics as much as he loves New York, but never got around to giving it to him. For some reason, I thought it would be a good book to read before a trip to Chicago. A strange travel book, it doesn’t really work, but is mildly entertaining.

But when you stand up there, all cheekiness, it doesn't give us much encouragement, you know.

2011-05-05T00:57:00.000-04:00

35.

Cocksure by Mordecai Richler - Bookclub Pick! I just don't think I get satire from other times. I found this book boring and mildly offensive. Its only redeeming quality was it was short.

He avoided looking at the sheeted figure lying on the bed.

2011-04-29T00:41:00.001-04:00

36.

And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie - I saw this discounted in a bookstore and realized I didn't have any money. A week later I went back and got it. I had never read Agatha Christie and boy was that a mistake. Its a little dated but that lady was twisted.

Returning to the slaughterhouse with a cast on his left hand...

2011-04-21T00:31:00.004-04:00

37.

Facing Ali by Stephen Brunt - I have been on a real Muhammad Ali kick lately. I heard quite a bit about this one years ago and thought it might be very interesting. A whole bunch of Ali's opponents were interviewed about their thoughts of the Greatest Of All Time.

I'll hope that's not a metaphor.

2011-04-15T22:56:00.002-04:00

38.

The Bricklayer by Noah Boyd - Read this one because of work. Pretty good action-adventure thriller starring ex-FBI agent, now bricklayer, Steve Vail and his dealings with the nefarious Rubaco Pentad. Pretty disposable, but not a complete waste.

One of the drinks on the tray will be a Pink Lady.

2011-04-08T12:45:00.003-04:00

39.

The Natural by Bernard Malamud - Baseball!! Yup, baseball season has started, so I read a classic of baseball fiction. I remember seeing the film on a ferry as a kid, but I think I saw it more than once. The film has a heck of a lot more magic/mythic qualities. In the book, Roy Hobbs is a whole lot more of a douche. Still, who doesn't want a bat named Wonderboy that was carved out of a tree cleeved by lightning?

An accident? Perhaps.

2011-03-31T22:06:00.002-04:00

40.

City Life by Witold Rybczynski - Book club pick! Supposedly a sweeping cultural history of cities in North America. Has some interesting bits, mostly about Chicago, malls, and de Tocqueville, but overall a little bit of a let down. Makes me wonder what his new city book is about.

He was a tall man, wide across the shoulders, slightly stooped, greying at the temples.

2011-03-24T15:18:00.001-04:00

41.

Without Fail by Lee Child - No. 6 in the Jack Reacher series. This one got me from the get go. Reacher is hired by the Secret Service to try and kill the Vice President. It all goes down hill from there. Couldn't stop reading it and blew through the last 120 pages in one night. Obviously his editor gave him a stern taking to aftr the last one.

This is a strange city, administratively dependent on Ostia, but in many ways far more important.

2011-03-18T15:13:00.002-04:00

42.

The Roman Empire by Dr. Ray Laurence - A volume in the cute Traveller's Guide To the Ancient World series. It is a guide to the Roman Empire circa 300 AD written like it is contemporary travel guide a la Fodor's or Lonely Planet. Fun, reminds me of early university and gaming.

The only thing that sister had was faith. And between you and me, gentlemen, her faith were not worth stealing.

2011-03-10T15:11:00.002-05:00

43.

The Big Gold Dream by Chester Himes - I have been wanting to read Himes for quite some time. Published in 1960, this was one of his Coffin Ed Johnson and Grave Digger Jones noirs. I imagine that Harlem in the 50s and 60s was pretty grim, but I really hope not as bad as he describes; so many people out to steal poor woman's lottery winnings.

She left the check face down halfway between the two drinks, and walked away without saying anything at all.

2011-03-03T15:06:00.002-05:00

44.

Echo Burning by Lee Child - No. 5 in the Jack Reacher thrillers. First hundred pages were kinda slow, but it picked up at the end. A little too much white-dudes-doing-horrible-things-to-people-from-Mexico, but ok. So far my least favourite in the series.

Unless she crossed legit, or she's been here the whole time.

2011-02-24T17:09:00.002-05:00

45.

The City & The City by China Mieville - Book club pick! Interesting premise about two cities that evolved overlapping and how the two populations unsee each other. Couple this with a middling murder mystery and you have a mildly entertaining read. Not quite sci fi and not really a mystery. Quite arresting in places, but the first 80 or so pages are a slog.

Like many of the comics in this book, I am lying.

2011-02-17T22:31:00.001-05:00

46.

Comic Art Propaganda: A Graphic History by Fredrik Stromberg - An overview of comic art as it was used as propaganda throughout hundred or so years. Not overly informative, more of a list of 'see how this was used here' references. I would have prefered more history and impact, but it was ok. At least it reminded me of Reagan's Raiders which I had forgotten about. And the image of the Golden Age Dare Devil whacking a giant Hitler in the face with a boomerang still sits with me.

Holding chopsticks all alone - the snow keeps falling

2011-02-14T02:32:00.003-05:00

47.

Love Haiku: Japanese Poems of Yearning, Passion, and Rememberance by Patricia Donegan - Valentine's Book! I love haiku. But more so modern haiku that breaks away from the connection to nature. This is a slim book collecting a bunch of Japanese haiku relating to love. They are translated into english, but the author doesn't bother to convert them into English haiku, which was kinda disappointing. Just goes to show: Never send a buddhist to do a poet's job.

Demography may be involved.

2011-02-08T17:24:00.003-05:00

48.

Bestsellers: A Very Short Introduction by John Sutherland - One of the many titles in Oxford's A Very Short Introduction series. I was intrigued by the contents because of work, but I think I needed something a little more robust. There are some interesting tidbits, but overall not much more than a book of lists.

I'm afraid that you're a little - ah - unfamiliar with the upbringing of children.

2011-01-31T21:41:00.010-05:00

49.

Gladiator by Philip Wylie - This one has been sitting on my shelf for quite some time. I have lent it out a bunch, but only just got around to reading it. Thought to be the inspiration for Superman. It is about Hugo Danner, super strong, bulletproof and able to leap tall buildings in a single bound. It is also a tragedy about a man trying to find his place when he is so clearly different from everyone around him. Beginning and endings are both a little rough, but the middle has some really great stuff.

They barely glanced at the moccasin prints, faint in the dustfilm, upon the baked ground.

2011-01-19T23:13:00.002-05:00

50.

The Searchers by Alan LeMay - I think the movie is one of the best westerns ever made and part of me hopes someone will remake it as the book has a lot more to it. Part of me also dreads that possibility. Very odd ending in the book, which I think reads very differently now then when written, but who knows.

It inspires a heretofore undiscovered taste for bad poetry, and, say, sappy songs.

2011-01-13T10:11:00.001-05:00

51.

Sheriff of Yrnameer by Michael Rubens - Book club pick! A light Sci Fi satire about Han Solo protecting a village from maruading bandits who want their crops. A little too many 'homages' and not enough creativity. Felt, in places like it was written by editors. Not un-fun, but very light.

Fortune Liquors was already cordoned off by yellow crime scene tape.

2011-01-08T00:12:00.003-05:00

52.

9 Dragons by Michael Connelly - Found a pristine hard copy in a bar. Used to read Connelly, so I thought I would do that and return the copy for others to enjoy. That was over a year ago. Oops. First half is overally procedural (by design?) the second is middling thrilling. Ok, but the Harry Bosch character has become a bit of a bore.

Swim until you can't see land...

2011-01-03T14:37:00.003-05:00

Here is the list I thought I wouldn't do this year.

My Top 10 Albums of 2010 (alphabetically):

The Black Keys - Brothers
Broken Social Scene - Forgiveness Rock Record
Caribou - Swim
Frightened Rabbit - The Winter of Mixed Drinks
The Gaslight Anthem - American Slang
Land of Talk - Cloak and Cipher
The Morning Benders - Big Echo
The National - High Violet
PS I Love You - Meet Me At The Muster Station
Shout Out Louds - Work

Honourables:
Arcade Fire - The Suburbs
Beach House - Teen Dream
Daft Punk - Tron Legacy
The Hold Steady - Heaven is Whenever
The Roots - How I Got Over

52 Book Challenge...

2011-01-02T17:16:00.000-05:00

So, as I am an idiot and a very slow reader I have decided to try to read one book per week this year.

This is going to be a record with short reviews. Counting down...

No cars go...

2010-12-09T13:34:00.002-05:00

I wonder if I will ever figure out what will make me happy in my professional life. I am getting pretty sick and tired of waiting for that flash of insight that will tell me what I am supposed to do here. There are a bunch of things I know I would be good at, but getting to try them seems so daunting. I never seem to get any response to any applications I have ever submitted. I feel completely trapped in a unhappy rut bordered by huge walls of financial insecurity and indecision. If I hadn't been so contrary, so blasted indifferent when I was younger maybe I wouldn't be here. Maybe I wouldn't feel like I wasted 10 good years of my life.

2010-12-03T22:53:00.002-05:00

I wonder if I will ever come to a time in my life that I can honestly say, 'I'm a success'. I don't know if it is me or just some crazy lack of pride, but I can't remember a time in my live that I have felt successful. Day in and day out it seems like my personal and work lives are just unmitigated disasters and I have to fight tooth and nail to get there.

Friend of a friend, you used to call...

2010-11-12T01:28:00.005-05:00

I have lived in this house for all of my thirties.
And I have been left twice.
Left to find my way; to pick up the pieces and move on.
Inspite of that I grasp unto it like a drowning man.
I want it to mean something.
But right now it feels so empty.
I am fully aware that I am the Peter Pan of my peer group.
Floating high, untouched by responsibility.
But I am done.
I want to help people.
To have a family.
To be more then a uncle.

Never forget...

2010-11-11T11:00:00.002-05:00

My uncle Gordon was on the ground in Korea. I have two great uncles/cousins who served in the Mediterranean during the First World War. I never got a chance to meet any of them.

2010-10-17T00:00:00.001-04:00

How does one convince oneself that something one believes isn't something to believe?

This thing hurts like hell, but what did you expect?

2010-08-15T01:05:00.002-04:00

Early days...

That quiet, exciting time learning who she was, by keyboard, distance and time. (Surfing in a Warm Industry - Kashmir)

Excitement, yes excitement, from a quiet soul. Love mixed with dance, mostly on the inside, that bred life into a tired soul. (No Cars Go - Arcade Fire)

A fall down the stairs, and a coupled need to care for the wounded one. Rapidly growing old together. (Such Great Heights - The Postal Service)

2010-08-13T16:35:00.002-04:00

It's strange how, after such a long time, the habit to comfort, to take care is still there.

2010-08-09T01:47:00.003-04:00

"A ship in harbour is safe, but that is not what ships are built for."

- John Augustus Shedd

2010-07-22T12:09:00.002-04:00

In the early, early morn, someone leaves footprints while looking for all they can about you.

It may have been you, trying to keep yourself safe, private, but I don't think it was.

Within minutes, something sparks your eye and you are up, probably talking to that same person.

All before the sun comes up.

Please be careful.

It feels different now, not like then.

2010-07-22T00:44:00.002-04:00

"I speak of the city built by the dead, inhabited by their stern ghosts, ruled by their despotic memory,
the city I talk to when I talk to nobody, the city that dictates these insomniac words,"

- Octavio Paz

2010-07-18T21:58:00.002-04:00

It is torturous to watch yourself slowly be forgotten while you are cursed with an incredible memory and can not forget, even when you try, try, try.

Its like being buried alive or drowning. Agony in a box; under the sea.

The question is: would I do it again? I have thought hard about that. Heart and hope dashed like scraps on a plate. Was it worth it? I'm not sure, but those stellar moments, those stellar moments haunt me as much as the pain. They come to me when I least expect them. They creep into my thoughts and they don't let go. They were good. I truly believe that.

I am probably delusional.

It was a struggle knowing that no one in your camp thought I was good enough for you. But something they don't know. You might find someone you love more. I can pretty much guarantee that, but you won't find someone who will love you as much as I did. Who got you the way I did.

2010-07-15T11:45:00.002-04:00

When I read it
I get sad
and a little angry.

So many of those things
you found with me.

Its like a child
who has grown
and left behind
those things unneeded.

An imaginary friend.

A plaything.

2010-07-13T23:51:00.006-04:00

"So much of what is best in us is bound up in our love of family, that it remains the measure of our stability because it measures our sense of loyalty. All other pacts of love or fear derive from it and are modeled upon it."
- Haniel Long

2010-07-13T02:24:00.002-04:00

Two lovers walked hand in hand on cold autumn's evening. The chill in the air seemingly speeding up the cars; rushing to get somewhere warm. They were lovers, but not for long. Him full of doubt, her full of fear, neither one too old to have given up hope, nor too young to not to be scared. Content, laughs came easy as they gripped each other tighter. Hand in hand, whispered words met smiles as their hearts inched nearer still.

Both poor, this was their night out, their date. A cold bundled walk on some busy streets they knew so well. Headed to that cafe, the one that didn't charge too much for tea. One bag and the biggest cup they had. Both were used to looking for more where they could.

A crossword torn from a paper left behind, tea in hand, they returned into the night.

It wasn't so different from the night they met. Colder, a little darker perhaps, but so similar. That first night still brought flutters. The picnic in the park, followed by drinks in the bar with the terrible service. They didn't dare move, not wanting the date to come to an end. It didn't matter that the grumpy waitress was slow and infrequent, until after she brought the check.

The surprising kiss. How their thoughts kept coming back to that kiss. She seemed taller then, he told her. You were just stooping, she replied. You do that when you meet new people.

He smiled at that thought. She was right, of course.

a long time ago I wrote...

2010-07-13T00:02:00.001-04:00

try and monopolize your time, endeavour to get you naked in strange places, kiss you when you least expect it, do nice things for you, warm my bed for you, find interesting music you might like, stroke your leg when we are in the car together, hold your hand in movie theatres. you know, the usual.

2010-06-25T23:44:00.002-04:00

I guess that's it then.

2010-06-25T22:41:00.001-04:00

You'd think that it would be different now. Things would have changed. You'd think.

2010-06-24T23:25:00.002-04:00

Two lovers walked hand in hand on cold Fall's evening. The chill in the air seemingly speeding up the cars as they rushed to get somewhere warm. They were lovers, but not for long. Him full of doubt, her full of fear, neither one too old to have given up hope, nor too young to not fear. Smiles and laughs came easy as they gripped each other tighter. Hand in hand, whispered words met smiles as their hearts inched nearer.

Both poor, this was their night out, their date. A cold bundled walk on some busy streets they knew so well. Headed to that cafe, the one that didn't charge too much for their tea. One bag and the biggest cup they had. Both were used to looking for more where they could.

Tea in hand, after sharing pennies and pocket, off they went into the night.

2010-06-19T13:43:00.002-04:00

I hate it when people use my blog to help stalk friends of my online.

2010-06-11T23:09:00.002-04:00

I just wonder how many years I took off my life after Iggy left.

Answer to the burning question...

2010-05-26T03:33:00.001-04:00

you had one.

I don't know just where I am going...

2010-03-31T00:18:00.002-04:00

Awake much earlier than I have to be...

After a quick trip to pee, hours before I have have to leave, I fall into a dream.

Lost in a cab, not sure why we were together, we had time to catch up.

Up and down Yonge, trying desperately to get further away, we leaned against the doors, talking.

I told you the news. You told me where you'd been.

And I woke.

Lying there I was bombarded

With thoughts of my past, my present, my future, I lay there.

Thoughts on what it is like to leave, to be left and to find.

Heartbreak to euphoria, how do you understand it? The reverse, not much better.

Like a racing car, hurtling down the speedway. And as fast as you go, there is always a crash just around that next bend. All you have to do is blink and you are stopped in your tracks. Concrete wall or no, you are done for. Heartbreak.

But you could run forever, weaving in and out. King of the road, overtaking every single car. Not a care that your heart couldn't laugh off with gusto.

But not racing? Not feeling that rush, failure an option always, but never taking the risk?

Watching from the bleachers as your friends play that game of tag, that race of a lifetime. As each tries their best and inevitably one drives the other into a wall.

Where are you then? Helpless, unprepared, yet totally aware.

2010-02-12T00:19:00.001-05:00

Photos of you, taken in places I have never been, at times when I was somewhere else.

Those hurt the most.

2010-01-15T22:19:00.006-05:00

How does one assuage the guilt associated with being the only one home when your roommate's cat dies, suddenly?

I don't get many days off so they aren't supposed to be filled with panic, helplessness and mortality.

Memory No. 40

2010-01-12T02:10:00.004-05:00

cupboards, in the house; dead of winter

As the days keep turning into night, I listen. Listening for songs and signs. Noises, really.

Little bits of you, hiding.

Hiding in plain view, but sound travels in a way, a simple way, a way I can't see and only hear for a second.

Remember when? Remember when Valentine's was coming, almost here, but coming fast and sure.

You went to the store and bought some stickers. Retro and cool.

Hiding them, being on your mind, you arrived home. Placing them, where I would look.

Small places, dark and sure.

It took me a while, but I found them all.

You hid them well, throughout the house to be stumbled upon.

First in the pocket.
Second on the shelf.
Third and fourth piled up.

Placed together.

Rx: Need a little spooning?

Nothing about you that don't please me...

2010-01-03T14:57:00.003-05:00

The list, the list is the key.

Top 10 Albums of 2009 (alphabetically):

Attack In Black - Years
Dan Auerback - Keep It Hid
Florence and the Machine - Lungs
Kram - Mixtape
Most Serene Republic - ...And the Ever Expanding Universe
Ohbijou - Beacons
Portugal, The Man - The Satanic Satnist
Said the Whale - Islands Disappear
Two Hours Traffic - Two Hours Traffic
The xx - xx

Honourables:
Alexi Murdoch - Away We Go ST
Timber Timbre - Timber Timbre
various - War Child Presents Heroes
YACHT - See Mystery Lights
Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Its Blitz!

2009-12-22T18:47:00.000-05:00

The time past hasn't done much to fill the hole. You are still there, in my thoughts, in my heart. A feeling so clear that I resonate, day in and day out, with an ache like the tone of a bell.

happy birthday

2009-12-21T18:18:00.004-05:00

Your message today made me feel a lot of things, none of which are simple.

A shared secret?

An echo of love lost?

A final goodbye?

What were you trying to say?

We were never that good at talking, but I would have liked to hear your voice today, to tell you what's on my mind; to shed a tear and share the loss that I still feel. To make you laugh, to hear you say that you miss me.

2009-12-20T01:18:00.005-05:00

same street, cold winter's night

The nights are getting darker, longer. It's how I know it's coming.

My night, the one I have to fight for and accept the apologies of my friends.

It's coming.

But not the same as the years' before.

I haven't been making time for myself for months. Candle burning at both ends, but the work end seems dipped in kerosene.

I tried to go to a party tonight, birthday, not christmas. No one was home, so I walked to mine.

Probably better that way. I wasn't fit for human consumption.

My night, it's coming.

But not like last year's.

Or the year before.

I will be half my father's age. First time ever. If my math is right, the only time ever, in both our lives.

It means something to me. A turning point, a threshold, a date to cross out, marker in hand.

I had meant to do more by now. Nothing specific, just more. More with everything.

I wasn't prepared for doing less.

But here I am, sitting where I was years before, doing pretty much what I was doing years before, daydreaming about what might have been.

The loss feels more acute now.

My bed is cold at night.

The house is quiet.

My stocking is where you put it, last year, untouched, waiting for someone to fill it.

There is something about the stocking.

Your family revels in them. Thinking back, so did mine.

But the one you hung for me, looking at it, my heart sinks.

For a couple of days a year, it held you and your dreams, your hopes for me.

For a couple of days, a year, it held love.

A love and happiness untainted by second thoughts, untainted by pasts not easily forgotten.

It was filled with the kind of love that children feel.

And on this night, two days before my night, I sit and I think about love. Your love.

The love that brought cake to the party room; shared cupcakes and tarantulas underground; handed me a dabber and shared snacks.

The love that warmed me.

That brought a buzzing noise into my head, my heart, every time you were around.

The love that made me feel like things would be ok, even when they weren't.

Five days from now,

I want to find that love,

in my stocking.

2009-12-04T01:34:00.002-05:00

"Have you ever had one of those days? You know one where nothing at all monumental happens, but by the end of it, you don't even know who who are any more or what the hell you're doing with your life? It was just a rough day, and the only person I wanted to see at the end of it with was you."

Memories Pt. 39

2009-12-02T21:57:00.002-05:00

christmas eve, at home and on the way home

Holidays were always hard. I worked a lot and never got to take time off. You are so connected to your family that you feel pain when you don't get to share with them.

You'd always go up early, a day or two. To bake and cook and help your sister get the house ready. Those two days were the guiltiest I have ever felt. I couldn't leave work, I had to be there, but I felt I should have just walked out and followed you. I wanted to cook and bake for you. You and your family.

It never happened that way. Our holidays were always short and stunted.

Every christmas eve I would drive myself, in the dark, down the highway to join a celebration winding down. An interloper, eating his luke warm plate while everyone looked on nursing their tea and coffee.

But the evening would unfold and I would unwind.

Eventually, everyone would go and we'd drive home.

You'd nod off in the car. All the family, taking care of the kids, sleep would sneak up on you, especially when you stopped moving. Its like you always knew that it was there, chasing you in a never ending game of tag. Only catching you when you stopped.

I would drive, mostly in silence, not wanting to wake you.

Getting home, we'd have to unpack the car. Your family always treated you well. Lots of leftovers and lots of presents.

But we'd be home.

I looked forward to this time. It was only then I really felt our christmas started. I know you gave up a lot to accommodate my christmas.

Never getting to go where you wanted to go. Never getting to spend time off with me.

But christmas eve, that was it for me. That was our family's christmas; when my excitement came out and all my love was found under that tree and nestled in the bottom of your stocking.

You and me,
the cats,
all curled up by the couch,
near the tree,
taking turns opening gifts,
sipping egg nog,
listening to carols,
old and new.

A family with a tradition of its own.

Sure, there was love the rest of the year.

There was a relationship, sometimes good and sometimes not so much.

But christmas eve, christmas eve was when I had a family

"You're really hard not to like"

2009-11-28T02:20:00.006-05:00

Something I never understood. It stuck with me from then until now and bothered me for the whole time.

Understandably, there were only three options. Women are women are women.

But I thought I would have had a little support.

Why did no one take up my flag?

Did no one say, "Are you an idiot? He's a great guy. You'd be stupid to look somewhere else."

But I guess there were only three options. They either didn't think that I was any good for you, or they just wanted to be supportive and couldn't tell you what they thought, or they didn't include me in the equation at all.

My friends said everything under the sun; one extreme to the next.

But yours.

What did they say?

Women tend to be supportive, above all else. Decision made, words reinforce.

I can hear it now, "Do what makes you happy. If you are not sure, you should figure it out. etc, etc, etc."

The more I wait, the more I realize something that was clear to me before, but became obscured as time went on.

I am a pretty good person. I have my faults, but on a whole I am worth it. I would make you happy, if you would let me. If the world would let me.

But this isn't about me, which is something none of your friends may have said. I am not the one failing here.

I am just a boy. A boy who tries, everyday, to be better and to take the high road and treat people with kindness and respect. A boy who would make a good husband, a great father and an eternal friend. Someone who is smart, funny, loyal and strong.

Which is how I sit. I am not going to devolve. This is who I am and I am only going to get better, not worse.

Memories Pt. 38

2009-10-06T12:44:00.000-04:00

birthdays

I am not sure when he said it. I don't even think I was there when he did. I just learned about it from you. It was one of those things that you couldn't wait to share with me. One of those moments that you wished I had experienced with you.

He called it 'happy cake'. It was just one of those things that kids do. They make up names for things. Not sure if it came form happy birthday and birthday cake, but it stuck. From then on we always called it happy cake.

It was one of the many additions to our own language.

But those words are disappearing, like many of things between us. I remember the last happy cake I made you. You said it was the best cake you ever had. You said that about a lot of things I did for you. The best you'd ever had. Mostly food, but other things as well.

But that has all gone. And with its departure there is a hole. I miss the little guy who coined the term. His affection was real. But I miss other things as well. A lot of them were dreams and fantasies, but they all add up to a gaping void. A giant black pit somewhere between my heart and my stomach. A hole that I don't seem to be able to fill.

It is almost like an itch you can't scratch as it is just out of reach.

Not pain, although it has a corona of pain, but a loss so profound it overwhelms me sometimes. A deep dark void where something golden used to be.

A hole in my life perfectly shaped like you.

2009-10-03T00:47:00.001-04:00

Just parted from friends, I turned the corner, heading for the subway. A narrow sidewalk faced me, cluttered with lebanese food, fresh fruit, lights and noise.

A girl caught my eye. Dead centre of the concrete, where I had to travel. Tall and slim, but carrying an oversized knapsack, and a cloth satchel, in that hippy way. She pondered the fruit.

Getting closer. Sizing her up, after a few drinks, I thought of asking her if I could help bear some of her burden. Take one of the bags and walk her home.

Even closer. Intent on her fruit, I aimed to pass her by. Maybe smile, say hello.

Closer still. She turned her head, strange man approaching wouldn't you. I couldn't break me stare before our eyes met, just before I passed her by.

Passing her by, she turned to follow me with her eyes. Now she was staring and there was something familiar. Something I knew.

'Peter?'

I stopped.

'Peter, right?'

I turned.

'I can't believe I am right off the bus and I run into someone I know.'

How have you been, I mumble, how is your sister?

'She is fine. She got married in 2001 and lives in Kingston. Have you lived here long?'

About ten years.

'Wow, that's crazy I bumped into you. I am famished. Just here for a couple a days for a wedding. Just got off a plane from Halifax. I am waiting for a bus.'

It had already come to me. I knew this woman. It had been almost twenty years, but I knew her. She was the younger sister of my high school sweetheart. I hadn't seen either in years.

But, I had thought. I had spent hours thinking about, at different times, how it went wrong, how I could apologise, whether I should.

You see, I cheated on her sister. It was a drunken moment of weakness when I was eighteen, but that doesn't forgive it. And it gets worse. I don't think I loved her but I told her I did, a lot. Mostly for selfish, destructive reasons. I was a child, but again, that doesn't excuse it.

I have dwelled on that for a while. I have wondered where she was, looking for signs of her online and through friends. I wanted to tell her how sorry I was for being a boy. A stupid, immature, self centred boy. And I regretted it. It took a while and I grew up, but I regretted it all the same.

2009-10-01T01:21:00.000-04:00

"Don't think on it too much. Come across something that don't make you miserable, enjoy it."

Memories Pt. 37

2009-09-16T00:21:00.008-04:00

summer, with you not there

Years ago, you went somewhere. As much as I try I can't remember where. You were gone, away from the city. You were still living with your mother, but she was gone too, that much I remember. Everything else is foggy and dark. You had left me, but I had instructions, that much is clear.

I was tasked with stopping in to take care of your cats. I had keys and a need to do what was right; what was agreed and good. Duty.

You were specific that time. You wanted me to stay for a while and give them love. Sure, I could watch cable. Sure, I could make dinner and eat the food. Sure, I could even sleep in your bed if I wanted. I just had to be there for the cats, first and foremost.

I am not sure you told your Mom or her husband that I would have the run of their house. But I had keys and instructions and a purpose.

I kept coming back, mostly late in the evening, after driving back from Oakville. Once with a pizza; once I made dinner, burritos, if I remember. I lay on your bed, eating my food and watching your cable.

Tubby stayed near. Chester roamed as he always does, but checked in every once in a while. And I watched the food network until I started nodding off. Restaurant make-over and iron chef until I started falling asleep on your comfortable bed, in that basement where I never fit.

I felt so near you even though you were far away. I felt like a caretaker of your life; and your Mom's. I was doing good work, necessary work. I was doing my duty. I was your boyfriend.

These memories came flooding back tonight. You see, I was tasked with a similar duty and I struck out to complete it with diligence. Keys were given and I rode hard to to put them in locks. I had to take care of some cats. I couldn't stay as long as I did before, not tonight, but I gave as much as I could.

You used to call me daddy when you talked to your cats. You joked about my love affair with Tubby. How she loved me but hated me a little, or was jealous of you, not sure. Even for a cat, she was high needs. Daddy's little girl, I guess.

Chester has always been his own cat. Fine alone, but making lots of friends, he was playful and warm to everyone. Not so much to me, but we had an understanding. An agreement to make things work for you and tubs. A gentleman's bond. Man to man.

But tonight was different. Alone, I was there taking care of someone else's cats and I couldn't help but think of you. I wanted you to be there. I wanted you to sneak up behind me and startle me with a kiss before jumping up and holding on as I piggy backed you around the room

Duty called, but I wanted you.

Close and there, enjoying our little family.

All to the amusement of the cats.

Cause you know its a simple game that you play...

2009-09-08T23:27:00.006-04:00

At night, in the shallow breaths of the dying summer, I sit and think, awake and alive.

Summer is for lovers. That is clear.

It should be bicycles and blankets; picnics and patios; beaches and barbeques, the memories kept and savoured.

Savoured with kisses and cuddles, under fireworks and in parks, the darkness a friend, a quilt to keep out the world.

But the sunlight, those bright and sunny days, shines down and illuminates you. It brightens those things I already know. Those forms. Your beauty; your being. You glow at night and in dusk, no doubt, but under the bright sun of day, you radiate. You are alive, more so than any other time of day. You are like the moon, a daytime moon, reflecting the sun's light down on me.

And I bask.

I live in the glow of you. The sunlight and the love, they are my food. I look for them. I look for them to help me get through the day.

And without, I am less.

I struggle to smile, I struggle to laugh.

All of those things that I want to do, I can't. Not without the glow, the light.

You have that effect on me.

Yes, you sustain me.

And I am tired without.

Memories Pt. 36

2009-08-29T00:35:00.005-04:00

in the rain

Cold and dark, riding home in a downpour. My shorts and the hoody you love so much soaked before I make my first turn. August shouldn't chill like this.

I keep pedaling despite the spray from both wheels. Found a new secret way to where I went and am using it to get to where I am going.

Home, will be quiet and dark when I arrive, so I think of you. I think of you in your warm and cozy bed. The bed you bought, with your oversized soft sheets, thick blankets and lots of pillows. A bed so piled high with comfort, our cat couldn't always make it on the first try. The bed I slept easy in, next to you and all our animals.

I think of you snoring softly, mouth guard in place, grasping onto my arm, using me for warmth even in your sleep. Hushed words uttered only when I shift, when I move. Yes, even in your sleep you know what words to use to pierce my heart and make me yours.

I think about this and I ride, cold and wet.

I ride wondering where you are and whether you are dry and warm.

In my mind, I need you to be dry and warm; to be under covers, cozy and safe. With the cats and the blankets, safe and sound.

And I wish I was next to you, keeping the cold out.

Keeping the world at bay, so you can dream, warm and safe.

This is what I wished when I was riding home, on a dark and wet night.

Plans Pt. 11

2009-08-26T17:10:00.003-04:00

It was pretty obvious that I wanted to get married. I asked you all the time. At some point I imagined you would say yes. I still think you may, one day.

I thought we would end up taking dance lessons. It was a weird thought, but I know how much you love your dancing reality TV. I always imagined that we would take lessons to prepare for that big dance at our wedding. Crazy, I know, but something I had convinced myself none the less.

Memories Pt. 35

2009-08-26T00:18:00.005-04:00

early on, leaving a bar.

We spent the evening together. Talking and sharing, getting to know one another. Time passed and it got dark. Probably faster than either of us realized. A chill came into the air like the season changed. We were both surprised.

I gave you my zip up hoody. You were cold and I was in love, what else would I do. It looked so big on you, on your small frame, like you were a child playing dress up. But it made you warm and smile.

You left me to ride. Of course you can borrow it. No, I'll be fine.

A few days later, you handed it back, apologizing for not washing it. It's ok.

Putting it on, a little while later, I was bombarded by a sense of you. You perfume and smell clung to the collar. I had you near even when you weren't. Each movement, each shift brought you to me and I smiled.

It smells like you, I told you.

You smiled.

I didn't wash that shirt for as long as I could. When I did, the smell was gone and it hurt a little.

Now that you are gone, it is missing from my life.

That wonderful smell.

Focusing hard enough I can bring it back to me. It is long gone from the house, but memory can bring it back. In my mind, with some thought, it is there.

It reminds me of happiness and love, of summer and hugs, of soft caresses and nights lying next to you.

I miss the nearness of you. Of all those little things that my other senses knew so well.

I wish it were here, your smell, as if it never left.

Memories Pt. 34

2009-08-25T16:00:00.003-04:00

inside your head

You put up so many emotional walls. It was so disheartening and frightening to see you paralyzed by fear. It reduced your ability to act to almost nothing. I hated to watch it. You internalised so much and let it build up so that it always seemed so insurmountable to you. So huge and scary.

It lead you to tell me about things as an afterthought, how you would have acted; how you wanted to act.

But you just couldn't act.

You couldn't take that first step. And that made me feel sad, helpless and a little foolish. Like I wasn't worth enough for you to make an effort.

You always said you wanted someone to push you, to make you better.

I would have helped you anyway you wanted; anyway you asked. I still would.

None of it was ever too big to overcome and I wanted to tell you that, but you never asked.

Memories Pt. 33

2009-08-24T15:55:00.004-04:00

cancun

A couple of nights into our trip. We had a couple of speed bumps, but were now enjoying ourselves, people watching and lying on the beach.

We had avoided the steakhouse. Mainly because it was a steakhouse. You couldn't eat that. It also looked a little dodgy.

We finally went. We were so wrong. I finally got a cold beer in a glass and we actually ate real Mexican food on the resort. Our waiter was a cute little guy, attentive and warm. He talked our ear off and brought use everything we ordered. He didn't blink when we asked for hot sauce. He just countered with 'No one ever asks, but I will check with the chef.'

What came out was an odd concoction. Shredded habaneros that had been fire roasted and mixed with garlic and lime. 'I am sorry, but this is all he has', he said. But it was great.

When he came back to freshen our drinks he asked us what we thought. We told him with gusto how good it was. He smiled, 'they keep it in the kitchen for the staff. Sometimes the cooks come in after too much tequila. It is the cure for a hangover.'

We both thought this was hilarious. It was an interesting view into a Mexico we hoped to see.

We had a wonderful meal, eating too much and drinking to our fill.

I was always amazed at how close I felt with you just staring at you over a restaurant table. So many meals in the time we had together. There was always a closeness there, a spark.

Sharing a meal, touching hands or a quick brush against a leg under the table, you leaning into me with my arm around you. I loved spending that time with you.

I miss it.

I miss you.

Memories Pt. 32

2009-08-24T07:04:00.003-04:00

the first summer

We had been hanging out every night. You still called it dating. I was playing it close to the vest, not wanting you to go.

We rode our bikes everywhere. To parks, many parks. We lay on grass and played on swings. I think we saw every park west of bathurst.

We went to bars for drinks and conversation. Bars we wouldn't grace ever again and some we made our own.
You held my hand and kissed my lips. You looked amazing, as you always did, but you also glowed and your eyes gleamed with expectation and excitement.
You kept dropping hints, but I was obtuse. Well only a little. I didn't want to share you. And I was a little embarrassed.

Eventually, your pressure worked. Back you came. We went straight to my room after a short tour. And we never left. That summer we spent so much time in that room, on that patio.

But it was the first night, I remember.

'What took you so long', you breathed. Immediately switching, to lighten the moment, 'I thought I'd never get invited in', you teased.

I remember that night. Like it was yesterday.

How you made me feel wanted, how you filled my heart and made me smile.

2009-08-21T16:58:00.005-04:00

You are remarkable. I have thought this for years.

You are kind and sweet, full of caring and compassion. Your faults I want to protect you from; your strengths I want to lean on.

Nothing has changed. I look at your face and see joy and love and a future. I live and breathe for your smile; for those eyes.

But, I need you to come find me. You need to act.

Three years ago today...

2009-08-19T23:11:00.003-04:00

You made a decision.

I never understood it and forgave you instantly. I still don't understand it, and I want to give you the world.

Was it right then?