I don’t feel like writing today, I might anyway. I think I’ll go back and try to imagine Andrew again.
I clicked chat because I just want to say a few things.
- I'm not sure if it matters or if you care anymore. You probably won't even see this. I found out you're getting married the other day. I think all the pain from the time I came home that I thought I had buried deep enough hit me hard. I don't think I've cried like that since, well, since the first time you left me. It was a pain so deeply felt I couldn't move. I cried and screamed from how much it hurt. Since then it feels like my days are just out of whack. I wake up and cry. I go through my day. I lay down to sleep and cry. Repeat. I think I'll be okay, but I don't think I'll ever be able to stop caring about you. Nor will I ever love someone the way I loved you. I pray your life goes well. I want you to be happy. I hope you get everything you ever wanted. I love you and I always will.
I don’t think I’ve ever blushed the way I did at that moment. He noticed and smiled. Opening his mouth as if he were trying to feed a child.
It was coconut milk. The vegetables were tender. The spices were burning my lips. And the crepe was soft, yet crisp. It was delicious.
Throughout the meal he would fed me randomly, what seemed thoughtlessly, as he talked to me and random people who would pass by.
I looked at him then.
A Romanesque nose, strong and defined. Full sensual lips. His eyes seemed to change colors, at one angle a beautiful crystal blue and then at another a deep turquoise, like oceans at different beaches. A defined jawline with a cleft in his chin. When he smiled dimples appeared.
He was reasonable to look at.
“Do you want to see something more amazing than my face?” He had caught me staring at him.
Flustered, I replied sarcastically “What? Anything at all?”.
He smiled, knowing he had won. He dragged me out of the restaurant and to his car.
I woke up to a beautiful sunny day. Filled with energy and ready to take a guided tour through Toronto. I walked out of the hotel and there he was.
Laying out on his hood of his black car soaking in the sun. He did make an attractive sight. Skin tight jeans, fitted t-shirt, and boots. Hiding behind dark sunglasses.
Turning his head towards me, he smiled. It only enhanced the image.
He jumped off the hood and opened the passenger side door.
I forgot about the tour then. I didn’t know where he was going, but I knew I wanted to go with him. I got in, he ran to his side, and off we went.
I felt like the farmer’s daughter who ran off with the bad boy from town.
While I was distracted by the sights around me he had gotten us drinks. I normally don’t drink beer, but I have to agree with other countries. Americans drink really weak beer.
I took a few sips. It wasn’t the bitter water I had tried before. It was strong, yet full of flavor. The liquid wasn’t see-though. It was like looking through stained glass. It painted the bar and everyone in it a rich amber tint.
We sat quietly, enjoying the music and beer. I caught him staring at me. It was one of those moments in a movie where the two star-crossed lovers kiss.
We didn’t kiss.
He grabbed my hand and we headed back to his car. On the way back to my hotel he glimpsed over at me with an angry look over his face as he raced along the glistening slick streets.
I wasn’t sure what to say. I was frightened. Which happens often, I’m not the bravest person I know.
He screeched in front of the hotel. I sat there looking at him for a minute then started to open my door. Grabbing my hand, he pulled me close and kissed my cheek. Jumping out of his side he opened my door.
A bit shocked I stuttered “Hey, you can’t just kiss a gal without warning.I don’t even know your name. What is it?”.
“If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” He climbed in and disappeared into the night.
I could still feel the warmth of his lips and scratch of his scruff on my cheek.
Who is he?
A bit later we parked in a parking lot. He led me to some cobblestone streets.
The sights, smells, and atmosphere were completely different from the rest of the city.
You could hear different instruments playing all sorts of styles of music from every direction. People singing. Dancing. The sticky, sweet smell of freshly made pastries. A more earthy scent of something else.
“Where or better yet, when are we?” I asked him, holding his hand tightly while taking in everything around me.
Laughing, he pulled me into a small pub.
A small band was playing music in a corner. People were playing pool. Everyone was drinking and having a good time.
We sat at a table covered in graffiti. Drawings, quotes, and a poem. Slightly worn and faded, I read it. It gave me a nostalgic feel. It didn’t have a name. It was simply signed “Tyler Wilson”. I wondered what kind of life he led and wished him well.
I almost didn’t want to leave, but my growling stomach and the headache that was starting, reminded me that it was lunch time.
I had seen a nice cafe earlier. A bagel sandwich and tea sounded great after my morning. Maybe then I could adventure more into the city.
I went out into the freezing cold once again. Almost to the last step, it was like slow motion, I slipped.
I was heading face first for icy concrete. I closed my eyes and stuck my arms out instinctively.
I hit something solid, but not cold and painful like I thought it’d be. A nice warm sweater covering a broad chest. A very solid chest hiding under that sweater. Curve, one of my favorite scents on a man.
Strangely familiar feel of a man’s hands on my shoulders. I looked up into a pair of bright blue eyes.
As luck would have it, and for someone like me I tend to have it in abundance, it snowed on my birthday. Enough to make the view from my room take my breath away.
The whole city glowed as the bright white flakes covered every inch of it.
I scarfed my breakfast down. Much too excited to wait. I rushed out of the hotel and into the beautiful snowy day.
It didn’t take long for my inner Texan to start complaining.
After getting clobbered by more snowballs than I could count when I walked too close to a snowball fight in a park; I was bitterly cold and questioning my rash decision to come up to that icebox. Walking several blocks I was ready to head back to my warm hotel room and it wasn’t even lunch time. I spotted a large sign “Bata Shoe Museum”.
I do love learning… and shoes.
This place was huge and FILLED with shoes! They had everything from Inuit boots to Indian padukas (They’re crazy tall, strapless flipflops. If y’all don’t know, like I didn’t.).
I spent hours reading about different shoes.
It was like Disneyland for women. I still count it as one of the best times I ever had. Not to be stereotypical, but I love shoes.
Mid-day the bus was on the outskirts of Toronto. It had never occurred to me to go to Canada. Covered in a blanket of snow it reminded me of fronts of postcards and painted pictures in museums. It was lovely. I had never seen anything like it.
As I got off the bus in the city I could barely stop myself from bending over and just grabbing a handful of it. Though, I noticed, here in the center of the city, the snow was much darker. A bit dirty. The snow was barely falling. I was a bit saddened, no, disappointed, by the lack of pure white snow here.
I walked awhile. Eventually finding myself at the base of the CN Tower. When I had looked up things about Toronto, this had appeared several times.
I took the elevator up to the very top. The sun had almost completely set and all the lights were coming on. It was a sight to behold.
Have I ever mentioned I’m not the bravest person?
Moving closer to the windows I hadn’t realized the floor was made of glass until I looked down. Which was not a very bright thing to do considering I’ve never been good with heights.
I must have been shaking because suddenly two large hands were holding me steady and a deep, slightly accented voice asked me “Are you okay, miss?”.
Looking away from the floor I turned to look at my would-be hero. About 6 feet tall give or take a few inches, brownish blond hair a bit long for a man, lovely crystal blue eyes, and average build. Well, I couldn’t ask for a better looking savior.
He helped me leave the tower and to a coffee shop down the street. We chatted as if we were old school mates catching up. I almost forgot the time.
I was late checking into my hotel. He walked me to the doors. When it hit me, “Hey, I never got your name.”.
He smiled at me and said “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” then he just walked away from me.
Perplexed, but too tired to argue I checked in, showered, and got into bed. For my first day here, it hadn’t gone too badly. I wondered though, “What could his name be?”.
We ended up in a more “colorful” side of the city. Little India. In front of a restaurant called Udupi Palace.
I had never eaten anything more adventurous than something off the spicy Chinese food menu.
He walked in and was greeted and seated immediately. The waiter and he chatted for awhile then he ordered something that sounded like Eddie Vedder having a seizure.
“I’ve never had Indian food before.” I looked at him slightly worried. “I’ve heard tons of horror stories about it.”
He just laughed that same, almost too arrogant, laugh. “Don’t worry.”
That’s all he said and I felt better.
We talked about different things, mostly about me.
When our food finally came I was a bit amazed. I didn’t know what I expected, but this looked tasty.
I asked for a fork, but he brushed the waiter off.
“No.” he said, ripping what looked like a thin tortilla scoping a bit of milky vegetables and placing it up to my lips “Like this.”.
“Him?” I thought “What was his name?”
He hadn’t told me yet.
He laughed at me.
“If I’m going to keep saving you, I’m going to start charging you.”.
Rolling my eyes I replied, “Of course, my knight in shining cotton is a comedian as well.”.
Giving me an all too cocky smile. “Knight and comedian are only a few of the many things I do.”
I’m not always lucky.
My stomach let out growls as if there were two lions in me fighting over who was the loudest.
He laughed again. It was almost annoying, but I enjoyed hearing it.
“If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you a great place to get food.”
Offering his hand I found myself holding on and unable to say anything but “Anywhere.” to this stranger.
Snowflakes, in a group, all look alike. But if you examine them closely, they’re all different. They each have something that make them special and unique. The same could be said about love. Love is love, but each is different. Some loves more so than others. Everyone needs and desires love. Even someone like me.
It was December 24th and I found myself doing some late shopping as I do every holiday, birthday, anything that involves giving gifts. I would get an expensive gift for my mother, she enjoys living like she was born with a silver spoon in her mouth. Something simple for my father, probably a lighthouse… something, they’re his favorites.
Walking around the chaos of a filled to the brim department store. As a woman shoved me out of her way I saw a lighthouse snow globe out of the corner of my eye.
I thought to myself “He’d like that… I think.”. Even after all these years, I wasn’t completely sure what they would or would not like.
I turned it upside down and twisted the key flipping it back over I watched the glitter and faux snow slowly sink back to the bottom of the snow globe while I listened to some Christmas song I didn’t recognized.
Living deep in the heart of Texas you don’t see much snow. I’ve only seen it twice in my life.
Once in Taos, New Mexico, while vacationing with my parents and another time while traveling by bus from North Carolina to Texas. I had no time to really enjoy it for very long either way. I decided it was time to enjoy a winter wonderland. A Christmas and a birthday gift to myself from myself.
The only question was where would my adventure be?
2 days later and a day before my birthday I found myself walking the frosty, snow covered streets of Toronto.
I gave everyone their gifts early and mailed the other gifts before I left. As I’ve said before, I’m so very bad at planning. I hopped a cramped bus going straight towards Canada. If only I knew what awaited me there, I would have sworn off my hate of airplanes and gotten there as fast as I could.
Another break for a picture… I’m never going to finish this story. Lol
The Devil in her heart… and by her side.