My 9 Year Toronto-versary

On April 1st 2015 I tried not to cry while my Mom wept outside the security line. I felt a heavy rock inside my chest and decided to be brave and bold and make my face emotionless. I waited for 15 minutes for my friend to show up to pick me up. I was annoyed that it didn't feel more special. When we sat on the patio outdoors, she said "There's always at least one plane in the sky, here, when you look up."

I was 23. I sobbed the first few weekends at the overwhelming loneliness of not having many avenues for socialization or warmth. I watched a lot of Gilmore Girls on the mattress on my floor. My roommate used all the hot water (and didn't admit to it until I moved out) and seemed to be in a complex place romantically. I cut his hair for food. Within 3 months of living there I had gotten food poisoning for the first time (Loblaws Chicken Tenderssss), had my heart broken, and got stung by a black wasp as I simply tried to exit my home's backyard. A hairdresser cut my hair too short, beginning a years long battle with grappling for any sense of hair-based confidence. I snuck into the Christie Pitt's pool after doing quick shots at Northwood with my friend's friends. The next day I pulled my neck to the point of agonizing pain while shaking an iced cardamom soy latte. The mattress on the floor had quickly lost its charm (if not from the puke from said food poisoning story). An old Haligonian lover and I reconnected again and history repeated itself. A consistent lack of communication and much confusion. My last journal entry before the move stated this: "I want to spend my 20's taking photos, talking to friends about how we feel, having sex, falling in love, feeling pretty, making people laugh, helping my family, being interested, being interesting, singing pop music, stretching, looking, crying, learning, getting as strong as fucking possible. Going through it."

And: I sure did. I sure did go through it. Almost immediately. Almost too much. Almost as if I should've manifested better luck as I embarked on my new adventure??? I guess I was aware there would be obstacles and I knew they would make me tougher. The breakups of my first love and my best friend within months of each other taught me how capable I am of starting over. My journal entries now paint a different dream future, one with: safe, compassionate community members, silly and loving friendships, a partner who claims me, a fulfilling career, time and energy and space to create art. I've gone through it, now I choose to thrive.

Affectionally, Al

PS - Hi, welcome to this new dimension of me on the internet!! Thank you for being here :*) I'm so excited to dig into my archives and share old photos and stories and of course, feelings.