13 June 2006

The Art of Keeping in Touch

It's funny how a simple telephone call can change your entire mood.

On Sunday, I declined an offer to go see my boyfriend's show. It's been a very long time since I saw them play outside our living room and throughout the whole day I was telling myself that I was going to go out and let loose. I deserve this. Then, I put my makeup on. Nothing went on right. My eyebrows were drawn on lopsided. My skin looked in rough shape. I had bags under my eyes. I looked at myself in the mirror and felt like crying. There are so many days where I am happy inside but I can't seem to physically match how I feel. I know it's all in my head. I'm the only one who sees these huge flaws while everyone else sees me as beautiful or fun or what have you. I, simply, pick and pick and pick at myself in an attempt to ruin my mood. All Icould think of was if I'm looking like this at nearly thirty, what the hell am I going to look like when I am pushing forty?

Regardless, it was a day where I felt like picking at myself and others around me. My partner and I seemed to gently pick at one antoher too. It was just one of those days. I decided, after all, to stay at home. I'll get some writing done, I convinced myself.

Around midnight, the phone rang and my entire mood lifted! No, it wasn't another telephone call from my friend with no sense of time. It was my honourary little brother Kyle...all the way from Taiwan!

He sneaks up on me when I least expect it. This time, I was re-writing four year old blog I kept once upon a time. I stopped in a middle of an entry to think about my life then. I was a saucy little minx! Also, I was surrounded by longtime friends and simple moments. I sat back and missed having that strong circle of friends and to be able to call someone "my best friend". And then he calls to tell me that he misses me - his best friend. I couldn't contain my thrill!

It's nice knowing that someone is thinking of you from a far. I'm sure it happens more than we think it does. When you are feeling a little forgotten, it's hard to understand that you are probably crossing someone's mind. Out of the blue, I get this call and it confirms my affirmation. Someone was thinking of me.

My friend in Asia is doing well, albeit busy as a bee. He teaches English and runs two different classrooms of young children. I haven't seen him since I left, about three or so years ago. It's been a while. It was hard to let go of this friend as we spent a lot of time together - laughing, sitting in silence, sharing cigarettes, and the occasional patch of annoyance for one another. Next thing you know, I'm moving across country - making it even more difficult to hook up during holidays and other such grown-up committments.

I have this marvelous way of getting secrets out of people. I may do it as though I am a pesty little sister or I may do it when you least suspect it by using innocent questions. I never use these secrets to my advantage, mind you. Simply, I like to be in the know and these morsels of information are tasty and solely for me.

He ended up telling me that he was coming back to Canada for a visit, to surprise his family, in August. I had a loose plan in my mind to come home in July, while the boys are on tour and I'm left alone. I thought it would be perfect timing so my partner and I would both be away then. Something held me back, though, when planning my summer vacation. Other than money and the lack of it on my end, I was holding back...just in case. In the back of my head, I thought that perhaps Kyle will be coming home this summer but probably not. I'm just a hopeless dreamer. Much to my chagrin, he certainly is! I'm seriously rethinking my travel plans as this is very rare that we can be in the same town at the same time. I'm very excited!

The last few times we talked, I was bummed out. It takes a lot of getting used to, to be away from home and your history and your longtime set of friends and strangers. At least, for me. He was always the encouraging type when it came to that feeling. He moved many times in his adult years - and he is only 25! He knows all about letting go and moving on and taking on new horizons. He just felt much closer to home when he lived across the country - you always knew he would come back and be reliable. Now, he is far, far away in Asia. He's changed and with all faraway friends I fear that they no longer can fit me in their busy, different lives. I'm always wrong with that fear. We chatted the other night as though we just hung out the night before; gossiping about people and talking about our sex lives (more like his, I'm nosy that way) and laughing over old times. I miss that guy and I hope it all works out - I miss home.

Other than missing home, I miss the characters in my former life. In the middle of re-writing my blog of yesteryear, I have strolled down that cliche memory lane. I miss certain people that I have lost touch with and wonder how they are. There are tiny little holes in my heart where they have vanished in my daily life. Some are tainted and the others shine bright as a night time star. Why do we always lose touch?

I miss Jamie, my Cockney penpal that I knew for a good ten years or so. Truth be told, he was a bit of a liar and kept me on a string. He would say he would send a photo but he never would (I didn't get to see his face until I was 28!). He said he would come visit me and gave me particular dates but he always stood me up. He would call and confess many secret words but he would never follow through. Always, I forgave him. We would spend hours planning and laughing and battling over who is the biggest smart ass. Sometimes I won. I could get any secret from him. He knew everything about me. We lost touch a short while before the London Subway bombing. I have called and written him since that day only to receive a return-to-sender (marked as "refused") letter and a silent telephone. When I moved here, he claimed that I had broken his heart. I don't believe those words because he had time. He could have at least returned my call to let me know he was okay after the tragic bombing.

I miss Dan. Dan was a good friend. The little brother of my older sister's friend. He had this innocence about him - you just knew he had a good heart. Often, we would raise hell together with a bottle of gin and a crowded dance floor. He would call me up but instead of saying hello, he would bark the word "jackass". Over a summer, he turned into a drug consuming raver complete with candy necklaces and large furry pants. The last thing he said to me was a verbal invitation to his going away party and how I would have to pay to see him off. I was not impressed and we lost touch. Last I heard, he was out west and gay.

There are others that I miss and wonder about. They cross my mind and I think the most pleasant of thoughts. I sincerely hope that they are somewhere out there and doing well. Now, I vow never to lose touch with my past and the people in it. Some are only fit for memory though.


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