Not my usual Monday

Yesterday is a day that I won't soon forget.... I learned how to play History of the World and...

For privacy's sake, I won't mention this person's name.... but I'm sure all five of you who read this blog will know who I'm talking about. While walking to the Elgin Street Diner at lunch yesterday, hand in hand with my hottie of a husband, I saw someone that I wasn't prepared to see. Someone who, I thought, was either no longer living in this city or was dead. And believe me, if you knew who I was talking about, both of these options are realistic. But there I was, with Stewart, at the top of the stairs to go down to Confederation Park, when I laid eyes on said person for the first time in almost three years. I noticed that they obviously saw me but were going to avoid me and, in a split second, I made the decision to say hello anyway. Well, my actual words were "Holy Shit! Hi!" This person was definitely not dead, one could even say that they looked healthier than the last time I saw them. But the clothes were the same, the scruffiness was the same, the slouch was the same, the desire to disappear was the same. I blathered on like an idiot for a minute or two, trying desperately to regain the contact that I had lost... not the same contact, but at least make a connection. They were just as surprised as I was, but definitely not as happy. They finally, extended a hand to say hello to Stewart, though until that very moment they didn't lay eyes on him at all... could barely lay eyes on me for that matter. The brief encounter ended with me (again, sounding like an idiot) saying "Well, we live at the same place, we have the same number, give us a call."... and also ended all hope that they actually would call.

I have the best husband in the world. A man who, two minutes after this surprise meeting while I was already talking about something else, said "You're shaken up, it's normal, it's ok. Don't worry. Go ahead and talk about it if you need to. You'll probably need to for the whole day. I love you."

If this person and I hadn't lost contact, if this person hadn't decided that they needed to completely disappear from my life to heal, this meeting wouldn't have been so momentous. Because I don't need distance for healing. I actually need the opposite. But I gave said person the distance they wanted because, well, part me still loved them at the time and wanted to best for them. But somehow, deep inside, I hoped a positive connection would be made again... so I could totally heal. I doubt that will happen and I know that now. Stewart's said that what just happened was closure, and I'm inclined to believe it's the best I'll get.

At least Stewart and I looked totally hot that day. (I can be such a bitch.)