Baker Street

I leave Montreal on Thursday for Halifax, where I begin a ten day tour of the region. At the commencement of the trip, I will be returning to Western Canada rather than Montreal. My time here has come to a quick, yet expected end, and with it, and end to a begining I gathered would not cease this soon. Jessica, the woman I have shared my time and life with for the past several months, departs for the sunny pastures of California for her new life four days after I head for The Maritimes.

And with that, with those two flights, ends one of the warmest periods of my life. It's too harsh to use the term breaking up, but the same result swill occur here. The cards reality has dealt show a hand that does not allow me to get to Los Angeles; rather, my cards have me in a good position none-the-less. I am headed, again, forward, this time, though, with emptier arms.

In my mind, heart and soul, I am sad, to be honest. I enjoyed this period of time truly and heartily. My relationship record had been very spotty to this point. I hadn't been fortunate enough to go through much more than good times and good connections. The world of true love had yet to be entered, yet alone sustained. With this ends by far the best experience I've had, one I wish wasn't yet done, one I'm having trouble believing actually will end. I find many endings in my life seem without valid reason, but life is not reasonable, it is simply life, and all I can do is live by it's rules or be hurt by them. I can only make sails, not the wind.

I will not stay down. Life is a gift full of gifts and that which is given is usually taken away. Memories and a new reality will be my souveniers to share as I continue on my path to everything and everywhere. She leaves, I should hope, with a happy heart, too. I try to give all I can and I hope I didn't fail her. One could easily point out that since she is leaving without me, that perhaps I had no effect. That perhaps I was nothing more than a convenience or a warm body, and in all honesty, often times that person pointing out these facts are me, but something in me knows better. I have never been a man that has been presented with fair obstacles or usual circumstances, and this could be easily categorized as a similar event, but I feel that as this thing ends here that, for whatever reason, I left a mark, too. We all make our choices - I hold my head high knowing I loved the best the best I knew how.

Other than that, I am well. Even with this, I am well. My will is stronger than ever. My human being skills have been honed. I feel I am just now begining to excell at the art of living, that all the time before now was primer for what this may all be about. I wanted dearly my life to take a turn to that of one with a greater meaning, and that transpired here. I am not the same man that entered this city. The man who leaves Montreal only slightly resembles the boy who arrived here months earlier seeking a new chance and a new meaning. He found both and more, and although the face may be the same and hair still brown, the eyes, they know more now, and the hands feel able to build worlds.

The flight I leave on happens to have the comic I am working with on it. It's a nice treat that just as one journey should end, right when the tide of life pushes me hard against my will, a new one shall start once I board my plane and once again depart for the unknown, this time, via Halifax, with thousands of Maritimers to share my pont of view with.

It's been said, but it's true. It's better to have loved and lost than not have loved at all. Not many more hours until things dry and the refocus begins. I have my eyes set, they are fixed West, and they are hungry. Fisrt I have last day here. One more day to enjoy....