Advice

The Russian sent me this today, after a conversation on the phone last night where there were things I wanted to say, but didn't find the strength. He said I was strong, stronger than anyone he has ever met, but what I was too weak to tell him to give up, that what he is feeling isn't real, it's jealousy and fear that he won't find someone he likes more than me. But I love him, and I couldn't. Maybe another time. Maybe I deserve to hear him tell me all these things, except that it could end up kicking me in the ass later on, when he does fall in love with someone else. I mean really, he is seeing someone, how does he expect to convince me he is a changed man if he can do that? But I guess I am capable of doing it.

And then there is the stupid, naked, hopeful sliver of me that is like, he's telling the truth, he found what he was looking for and it's me!

Which is all besides the point, which is...what am I looking for?

Art is so sweet. He was showing me photos of U of T campus that he thought I would like, and there were photos of his wedding and others with his little family, dogs and wife, and he looked so different than how I see him. He looks at me with wide eyes all the time, and when he bursts out laughing it is against his will. He says he is a little terrified of me, that he never imagined he would be able to get close to me and the fact that I like him is a constant surprise. And then I look at those photos and I see sarcasm and irritation and affection, but mostly he is really relaxed. I asked him about this, and he said it takes a long time for him to let his guard down, which I understand. I do it in a different way, but my armour stays up for a while too.

So...I have this feeling that telling them both to leave me alone might be a smart choice. I am not always so good at taking the high road, though.

Am finally going to see Sabina tomorrow for Christine's birthday. We are going to the polar bear club. I have to admit that I am exhausted from taking the bus to Montreal so often and sleeping on couches, being busy, trying to get regular tasks done when I keep on traveling to Montreal. Going to see Lev felt like going to my other home, but this is different.

I wonder how Lindsay is doing...it was strange giving her advice (Christine is right; everyone bullies her, for better or for worse, and we should be careful) that I should be taking myself: to not be scared to displease people, that if they care about her they will stick around and she should decide what is best for her, and not base it on what people want from her. I think the Sparkses in general could use that advice.

It felt like the first day of winter today. Not so much this morning, when the snow was still new and the frozen fall leaves were crunching under my boots while I paced around waiting for my lift- it felt temporary, awaiting warmer temperatures. But tonight when I left work the trees were bare and icy and it smelled like cold weather. I don't really like winter (winter freckles- why does winter give me bad skin?) but it was pleasant stepping out into the cold sunset.

ThisThat

Isn't this appropriate...



Maybe they end up at the same destination?

Waiting Room

Second long weekend in Montreal in a row. Also second funeral. And second dinner with the Russian. All were odd and overall, positive. And my sister's birthday.

The viewing was on Thursday, and it was warmer than most wakes I have been to. There were five or six photo collages of various periods in Mario's life, and the love that made them was touching. There were also some of his things- his driver, some stuffed animals, a mini bbq, arranged around the room, which I also liked. There is always awkwardness, seeing people you should probably have seen more recently, but it took a funeral to get you together, hugging and kissing a lot of people, witnessing grief. But there was a lot of warmth to compensate. The funeral the next day had the same feeling. It was not very religious. The only hiccup I noticed was that a version of Somewhere Over the Rainbow seems to be for funerals what Time of Your Life by Green Day was to graduations when I graduated. But I only noticed because the same song played at Pigface's funeral last week. It made me think that funeral directors get together at some conference in Boca Raton or Miami and examine trends and best practices in death rites. Talking about it with the Russian, I think I realized why I always notice 'errors' at funerals, because they are so ritualistic that if something exposes the framework behind the tradition, it pokes holes in the ritual that those in mourning need. But this funeral home was very careful to make sure the projector and screen worked for the slideshow, that the food was well presented and people knew when to go up to the urn and when to retire to the reception. They left supplies in the washroom: tampons and pads, hairspray and mouthwash, to avoid any awkwardness, well placed boxes of tissues and waste paper baskets. And it worked. It kept the tradition and ritual feeling familiar and comforting, to have those details looked after.
My cousin Karen was fragile and small and I felt like I wanted to help her, but I had no idea what to do. I just hugged her.

Friday night I met the Russian for a walk and dinner and he said he felt like he was going crazy, that he had made a mistake and maybe we are meant to be and by the end of the evening I think he was ready to propose. He kind of did. Meanwhile, Art texted me to say that he was going to have the break up conversation with his wife. I wish I could find the anger to hold out like a knife at the Russian, but it seems to have evaporated. I love the jackass. He asked me if he should give up and leave me alone, and I couldn't say yes. But I also know that I want time to try something else. It is so strange to love someone so much, and also feel myself falling for someone else. I have never experienced it before. I was thinking about falling asleep on Art's shoulder on the train and how happy I was.

Maybe I just like the attention? God, I hope not. I should be saying, what do I want? And the truth is, I have no idea. I want the time to figure it out. That is what I have asked of both of them.

I woke up on Friday night in a sweat and proceeded to ralph for a solid 20 minutes while on the toilet. It was awful and continued all yesterday. I couldn't help Christina move, which I really wanted to, just to see her and Sabina. I felt good enough by about ten last night to go and wish the Armenian a happy birthday. Saw some people (Jessica Rabbit among them) I hadn't seen in a long time. I was explaining this recurring awkward situation that I have with one of the Armenian's friends that I have known since cegep to another old friend from cegep and had this awful moment where I realized the awkward guy was standing directly behind me. Thank god he didn't hear, but I almost wish he would have and then he wouldn't be so obsessed with me and make me feel so darn awkward. The Armenian looked lovely and happy, and I was glad to see it. Hopefully Christine is having a good day today, too. She deserves a little lightness.

Overall, a good weekend, but I do feel like I am waiting for something to fall. But the waiting room is very nice.

This is a painting by Balint Szako. Art bought me a book of his drawings and paitings at MOCCA. I love them.

Possibly Sailing

Two funerals in two weeks. Yesterday was Pigface's funeral, and I use that nickname as a term of endearment. There were hundreds of people there and the eulogy, by his godfather was moving and warm. The minister was less than stellar, and I find the traditions surrounding funerals strange. Though I guess they are for the mourners and not for the person in the casket. I just couldn't imagine Pigface ever wanting to have prayers said over him and have his relationship with his grandfather compared to Jesus and God. But, traditions provide structure, I suppose, and that's important when you are dealing with something that seems insurmountable.

On Thursday is my cousin's funeral. He had a heart attack and then went into a coma. I think it will be a smaller affair, but in some ways perhaps that makes it more intimate. I don't know.

I also saw the Russian. I went to his opening, and his show is really good. I was so proud of him I almost cried. It felt good to be there, to see him succeed, but also just to be around him without falling apart. Then I saw him last night and we had a good encounter as well. It was more...intimate. But it was equally warm and was a fitting bookend, I guess? I wasn't really ready to say goodbye, but now I know I am. He has met someone who makes him feel optimistic, and I think that is good. He told me he thinks I taught him how to care about people and that I will always have him to rely on, if I should need him. It was really nice.

Then, there is Art, which has snuck up on me and overwhelmed me with feelings I can't really process, but they bring me joy, so I am taking them. I guess he makes me feel optimistic.

Saw these two images and loved them both. They are not really related to this post, but, what the hey.