A rekindled love affair

I finally had a real visit with my sweet Montreal today. I forgot how his cool breath sends shivers down my spine. His smell is one that is mixed with memory and nostalgia from places in my past as well as new and foreign delights that are nestling into my mind. I remember why I fell for this place just a few short months ago. Why when I got here, I knew I never wanted to leave and why after so little time here, it really does feel like home.

As I inhaled pieces of this grand city today I thought about how my writing here (blogging, I mean) might allude to a sense of unhappiness about being here. But what I feel like I should say is that I am perfectly happy to be right where I am, still exploring this affair with Montreal (pretty sure it's love though) and working out the kinks that come along with any great adventure. I think often loneliness is mistaken for unhappiness and truth be told, that has certainly been a common theme in my experience with that mysterious character so many of us know all too well. But this is different. This feeling that I feel every now and again (it is not everyday and certainly not every second of everyday) is one of pure, white-hot loneliness. I have had a bit of response to my recent posts from friends that might be a little worried or something. Allow me to clarify:

Lonely? For sure. Unhappy? Not a chance. Do I want to pack up and head home? Never. Am I still in love with Montreal? Sure thing.

After my short and intense bout of sharp heart pains yesterday (metaphorically speaking, mostly) and a good cry and a great nap, I had a wonderful conversation with one of my favourite people on the planet. It's amazing how just a short(ish) conversation with someone that knows every inch of your being can twist your heart right back into a sweet little bow. A happy bow. We chatted about this and that, new recipes, our cats (yep), upcoming changes and choices, potential visits, our hearts and how they're holding up. And of course, in the end, we were laughing and I was beaming. Just a phone call and the comforting sound of someone that loves you on the other end. I feel like I can run this marathon I find myself in with more energy than ever before.

So today was just what I needed to plunge further into this love affair. I had gotten so wrapped up in my head, swallowed by all these ephemeral things that I forgot how fantastic this place is. And what a perfect day to rekindle this love affair!!

The sun has finally given us a smile and the wind is tossing our hair and scarves around in a playful yet cool manner. I got myself dressed for a crisp autumn day (my favourite!) which meant a scarf, fingerless mittens, and a hat and marched down the street with a smirk on my face. I got myself to the Mile End which is (from what I understand) a more English speaking neighbourhood just on the shoulder of the Plateau, teeming with hip and cool young people, mixed around with a strong Jewish community and a lot of great shops and restos. My smirk had transformed into an enormous smile.

I sauntered down rue St. Viateur feeling weak in the knees as one does when going on a much anticipated second date, knowing that this date will surely end in a kiss. Families, strollers and kids in toques and mittens on strings, artsy couples with blunt bangs and think rimmed glasses, older women with intricate lines on their faces carrying yoga mats and fresh bagels (St. Viateur Bagel shop, infamous for their delicious, still steaming hot bagels - only plain or sesame seed). It was a wonder of a time.

I stopped in at a coffee shop (Social Club) that I remembered to always have cool looking people hanging out on their large patio, smoking cigarettes and talking about very interesting things (I'm sure). There was an obviously important soccer game bellowing from the TV screen when I walked in. A wild mix of people and a long line up. I typically get frustrated just looking at a long line but today, I was beaming and there was something about the energy in there that made me want to stay. So I got in line and watched the game with the rest of the fans, if only for a few minutes. Old and young, culturally diverse and a place that you know is a home away from home for many of its patrons. This was confirmed when I placed my order at the bar style counter and the owner was serving us, calling everyone (but me) by name. I was sandwiched between an older woman on my left and two old Italian men on my right. They all knew each other, spoke in a mix of Italian, French and English (for my sake of course) and I wanted to give them all a hug for making my day. My week even. I left with a smile that could swallow the world.

I was headed to Pop Puces. It's one part of POP Montreal (wonderful music festival going on right now that I, unfortunately, cannot afford to take part in) and is considered "the largest independent arts and crafts fair in Montreal. Now in its 6th year, Puces POP's marketplace will once again be playing host to over one hundred of the most talented independent artists and designers" (stolen from facebook). I was meeting my friend K there (one friend, yes). My intention was to get a feel for what other artists and crafters are doing and get an idea of where I stand. You want to know what I think? Not all that impressed and definitely encouraged and more confident about my skills, abilities and ideas of what is good. What I also realized is that I need to go slow. Slow and steady wins the race. Those words have been ringing in my head all week. Slow. And. Steady.

It didn't take long for us to be done in there. There were way too many people squeezing themselves through the small veins between the tables and it smelled like sausage. So we decided on a Montreal adventure.

Earlier I had noticed an ENGLISH used bookstore just up the street from where we were so I insisted that this be our first stop. Of course, when this girl finds a bookstore, a used bookstore no less, it could be a while before she's ready to leave. Oh it was like kissing the love of your life for the first time after being apart for much too long. It's almost better than the first kiss! This is what I would imagine it to feel like anyways. Of course, I left with four new (old) books which I have been flipping through all afternoon, a page here, a line there, anticipating each one with the excitement of a child.

The day moved slowly with us as we made our way through the streets of my new love. I remember walking down rue St. Catherine just as the sun was starting to hide it's pretty smile. Fingers and nose feeling frosty and cool, hot coffee in my hand and my books and new canvas in the other. My heart was expanding, I almost felt like crying. I was so happy to be right there, in this grandiose city that often feels more like a quaint town somewhere far from the borders of Canada.

And to make my day even more precious, when I opened my door, with all my new treasures in tow and K right beside me, the sun had snuck back into my apartment, leaving the loveliest paint strokes of yellow, orange and warmth on my floor and walls. I quickly put on some coffee and tea (K doesn't drink coffee) and we indulged in the Polish sausage we picked up at the patisserie on the way home. I was happy to have a friend over for tea (and sausage). I was happy to have a home to invite someone to visit at. I was happy to have a home here in Montreal.

Tonight: a taste of a new book, the start of a new project and, hopefully, a good sleep.