It's Not My Jam

I've been reading my friend's recently published book over the last few weeks - and yes, it's taken me weeks since it's been a struggle for me. It's a story about heartbreak, specifically her own after the break-up of a six-year long-distance relationship. One of the reasons it's been a bit of a slog for me is that I knew her partner (although I only met him a couple of times, and both times at parties) and, more importantly, I had to experience the split through her eyes - and through drink-soaked evenings at her local pub at the end of her street that revolved around her lamentations on a lost loved. I know much of the story already, and it was tough and tiresome for me to experience the first time around. Having to relive it, well, maybe I just don't have the requisite stomach for it. In the end, the book is not meant for me. I'm not the intended target audience. Truthfully, she's trying to reach but one person: her ex-beloved, who she thinks will read this memoir and come to his senses and come back to her.

But it does have me pondering some of my own heartbreaks. After all, in my friend's book, the one reference she makes of me is scoffing that her heartbreak is more devastating than any of mine. We've all had them, if we've lived a proper live. (Even my good friend DC, who has carried the curse of being attracted to "unattainables," has had to deal with the heartbreak of unrequited affections, which might be the worst of all.) Like many, my first experience with heartbreak was early, in grade 8. I was so smitten with her, Allison (I had to google to see if her name had one l or two), and a mutual friend introduced us formally at a school dance. She looked at me with some disdain, and walked away. And crazily, even though we went to the same high school for five years after that, we never once spoke. I still admired her from afar, but it remained that way through my teenaged years. I'm pretty sure I saw her at one of my local coffee shops when I was in my early 20s and living in my tiny bachelor apartment in the Annex - we share a mutual friend and she's confirmed that Allison has lived her whole life in Toronto, and in fact now lives somewhere in the same neighbourhood - but that's been it. Would I today have the courage to say hi if I saw her on the street? Hmm, good question. She was the first of a number of unrequited (and, let's face it, harmless) heartbreaks early on: Lauren, Lee, Arianne ... hmm, there are probably more, but maybe it's best if they've been relegated to the deepest recesses of my brain.

I experienced heartbreak for the first as an adult when my relationship with AE ended. We had been together for only a year and it began under straining circumstances: an affair she had with me when she started back at work after her maternity leave. In fact, I was her six-month replacement while on leave and sat at her desk! (She ended up landing a different editorial position so I was kept on.) We had such an easy chemistry, had a similar sense of humour and sensibility, and we were both feeling alone: I was single and lonely, and she felt a bit lost in her marriage. Timing is everything, but breaking up a family is probably not the ideal way to begin a relationship. Still, it worked for a good long time (a year does seem like a long time when one is in their mid-20s) but I was also thrust into a "grown up" role (since she had a young daughter - worse still, she had to be in a cast for a couple of months to realign her hips) that I was not prepared for. It finally ended somewhat dramatically when we got thrown out (for reasons that are too difficult to explain concisely) of the SkyDome during a Blue Jays game. I remember her being angry and just walking away from me. This was not the first time she walked away like that, but it was the first I didn't follow after her, but instead just let her go. It took me a long time to recover from her - it didn't help that we still worked together (although thankfully she found another job a couple of months later) - and I was still lamenting her a full year later when I was in France for a couple of weeks in the summer to attend a wedding. But in time, the hurt started to subside, my fragile emotional state was on the mend, and I recovered. I still feel a pang when I see her (not very often) but I feel I'm better for the experience: not just the deep love I felt for her (the deepest I had at that time; I still retain a muscle memory of holding her body one evening in my apartment in the Annex, marvelling at how we just "fit"), but also for demonstrating the flip side, of missing a person so desperately. And for showing me that an emotional scar is not necessarily a bad thing to carry around.

Loves listed

It's Valentine's Day today, a day that has traditionally been hit or miss with me. And not all the misses are what you might think: when I was single and lamenting that I had no one to share the day with. In fact, some of the worst misses have been when I've been in a relationship on Feb. 14. (The worst: the first and only one with AE, who compared my commitment to the importance of the day unfavourably to her soon-to-be ex-husband, who she said used to go all out on V-Day. "Great," I said, "then maybe I'll adjust my attitude and treat you like a queen on the 14th, and shit for the rest of the year." I did end up buying her some roses later that day.) Truthfully, I've always struggled with these "gift giving" days: Valentine's, birthdays, anniversaries, Christmas, etc. It causes me stress and anxiety, figuring out what to buy, how much is appropriate to spend, whether the gift I'm buying will be both wanted and enjoyed. I've been told to ease up on myself and not put undue pressure on myself, but I can't help it. It seems to be in my DNA.

I was pondering the other day about crushes. After all, we all love a good crush - and for most of us, we have a long history with them, going back to the earliest days of our childhoods when we started to become attracted to others in our social circle. We probably couldn't articulate it that time - hell, most of us still struggle to figure out how attraction works! - but it just felt ... different. I remember the names of my earliest crushes, going back to when I was just a kid: Dani-Ann (although I have no idea if that's how she spelled her name - she was the girl that lived on the French side of the street), Heidi (first girl I ever kissed!), Kim (the first girl I ever went to see a movie with, at Fairview Mall in Pointe Claire, to see the classic disco-meets-basketball film The Fish That Saved Pittsburgh). I wonder if these early ones stand out because they also had crushes on me? Or at least they must have since they allowed me to hang out with them. Surely there were others that went unreciprocated, which is perhaps why they have largely faded from memory. (Incidentally, both Heidi and Kim are today super-close friends, and I've reconnected with them via Facebook.) 

I've been fortunate to have had a number of fantastic long(ish)-term romantic relationships, going back to what was really my first: SG (initials only from here on in), where we spent a glorious summer between high school and the start of undergrad, staying up until dawn almost every day/evening, chatting, French kissing and touching each other. I lost my virginity with her as well, although, admittedly, our sex life was never stellar. (Sometimes I wonder if that experience set up a negative journey for me in terms of pleasures of the flesh. Although man SG had wonderful skin!) The others, in order (who I'd like to write about at some length in future posts): TS, AE, MG, AT, SB. (I'm worried I'm forgetting somebody here!) But then there are the crushes, at least the ones from the last dozen years or so and that did lead to some short(ish)-term romances. And by that, I mean there was nudity involved. In no particular order: ME, KH, MC, KL, AB, JF, MR. And there at least two (AD and JL) that I didn't act upon, so I never knew if they were interested or not. (I would be remiss if I didn't mention the one that made me a mite heartbroken since it wasn't reciprocated: RC.)

I know this isn't as much of an ode to all these amazing women as it should be. They will at some point receive their own posts - watch this space. 

The one additional point I wanted to make about crushes: I wish there was some type of means where I could have all the names of those who had a crush on me over the years. More important, whether there was a mutual crush interest that neither one of us acted upon. What were my missed opportunities? Maybe there's a lesson to be learned: that we shouldn't be coy or shy or hide these affections, although of course we might not always be in a situation where revealing ones feelings is ideal. I know that's happened to me on a few occasions. Anyway, really just food for thought.

In the meantime, Happy Valentine's Day to all out there!

The struggles

 I won't lie: this research leave has not been going as well as I had planned or hoped. I'm trying to cut myself some serious slack, given the emotional turbulence of the final couple of months of last year. And the continued melancholy that I've been fighting. (This is largely self created, of course, because of my own personality flaws with respect to relationships and commitment.) I need to find my rhythm and keep it consistent. More writing in the morning, for example - and even if I don't feel like I'm in the mood, to push through regardless. And then reading in the afternoon, when my energy levels tend to be a bit lower. Having a dog in my life has naturally complicated my routine, but I just need to include her in a more-disciplined daily schedule. It can't be that hard. (Having a cat while on leave was a lot less complicated.)

So let's start afresh next week. To the weekend.