Hiding...

On the way home to montreal, a long weekend helping my ex move to his new town of toronto.

A busy three days of moving, furniture-buying and -building. I was glad I could help in little ways, help him make his new apartment feel more like home.

When he first went to collect the keys to his new place about two weeks ago, it was a completely empty apartment. On the first night, my ex had to sleep on the floor. Save for three suitcases of clothes and personal items (including a collection of stuffed animals) there really were just four bare walls. Secretly, as part of a series of his birthday surprises, sent him a "welcome home" card, actually expedited it to ensure that it would arrive on the day he first enters the apartment. In it I hoped that he would soon feel at home in his new home, and hoped he would soon make new friends and happy memories so that he does not feel so lonely in the new city. He said that card made him cry... As it was also his birthday on that day, inside his suitcase I hid a nice blanket mum bought and wanted to gift him. That night he slept using the blanket. Just little touches, little surprises to make his feel special, because he is special to me...

That's also the reason why I worked so hard, and with help from his parents and friends, to make him a scrapbook to constantly, and hopefully always, remind him of who he is and yo never loose sight of who he is

After this weekend of furnishing the place shelves an essentials (and finally his bed was delivered), the place really does looks more and more like a home. I helped him put up his fridge magnets, a collection from all the places he's been to, some of which were with me. That was a memorable moment, just the two of us sitting on the floor and putting up magnets, recalling trips we've been on together.

Helping him move was an experience of mixed feelings. I'm really glad I can help him settle down, place some personal touches here and there so that when he finally moves in at the beginning of the year, it'll have a familiar, personalised, feel to the place. It's important, especially moving to a new city, starting a whole new career and whole new life,  to have something to remind yourself with memorabilia and gifts of where you came from. .

One such gift that went up on the shelf is  a wood carved toy canoe with two little figurines inside, which I gave my ex last year. It's a symbolic gift, at the time representing the hope of us being together and 'sailing' on the currents of life.  At the bottom of the canoe I wrote in black marker pen "Life is best sailing together" (or something along those lines). It's also a gift I sent my brother and my sister-in-law for their engagement.

Seeing that canoe brought sour feelings to my heart. I don't know why I had the urge to take the little figurine that was supposed to represent me out and keep it. Was it feelings of bitterness lingering from our past? Was it out of vengeance?

No... Seeing "me" in that canoe just felt so wrong, so out of place. I do not belong there in that canoe anymore. time and time again I am seeing signs of that, time and time again seeing my friend so eagerly want to contact the guy he's seeing, just makes me feel that little wooden figurine is  best replaced by another (or perhaps already has been replaced by another...)

My ex was distraught when he realised that one figurine went missing. "Where's my man?" he kept on asking. At one point he appeared to be tearing. I told him to look around a bit more, because the man I had taken and put it inside a bag. I know, it was mean of me, terribly mean...  But I was lost why it mattered so much. I do not belong in that canoe anymore. I don't...

I asked him why that missing figurine means so much. And he said it was very a symbolic gift of he and I. And he said  the figurine going "missing" is a bad omen that he'll be all alone in the town he's going to live in. I assured him, he has friends, a wonderful apartment with everything he needs, and a new job and start of a successful career is waiting for him. Why does a "missing" figurine matter so much?

 At times during the last two days, my was saying things as if he wants me to move to Toronto, and yo actually move into his apartment. I don't know if it's just him being playful (and somewhat insensitive to my feelings...), but I don't see how he can even propose that given that we're broken up... I sometimes really don't understand him at all, and he confuses me with such strange outbursts of cute names he started using to call me when we (officially) began going out.  It's strange to feel this way, and he told me that it hurts when I tell him that the way he behaves around nowadays feels like he's playing a game with me.

Two more weeks and he will be gone, will have moved away to a different city. Two more weeks and it would become harder for us to see each other whenever we  want to, whenever we feel the need to seek and find solace in each others arms.

Time will tell what will happen to us, if there is still an "us" to speak of. Time will tell whether the distance and time apart will break us or bring us closer to knowing what we mean, what we really mean, to one another in one another's lives.