February 3, 2014

The Scarf.

This is something I wrote almost a year ago. I’d forgotten about it, and reading it took me back to that time. It feels like a lifetime ago! It also reminded me of how something that seems like an inconvenience can turn into one of those wonderful, perfect moments that you always look back on fondly.

A few weeks ago, I'd taken two weeks off because I'd hit burnout from my job. I decided that since I was already working in Boston, I'd pop across the harbour to Provincetown, MA for my time off. I love Provincetown because it's a beautiful fishing village right on the northernmost tip of Cape Cod, and it also has a large population of GLBT folks. As a gay couple, you can walk around holding hands and nobody bats an eye. It's really freeing to be able to engage in the simple act of holding your partner's hand without worrying about getting dirty looks or worrying about getting attacked.

My boyfriend flew down to join me, and we spent a relaxing week in Provincetown, finished off with a couple of days in Boston. In Boston, we stayed in a gorgeous Victorian house owned by this bookish professor type - Tom was his name. Walking into his house, well, it was like a Victorian salon! Ornate hardwood floors, beautiful solid wood Victorian furniture (including a fainting couch), and stunning chandeliers. I could easily have pictured people getting together, smoking, drinking, and talking about a variety of topics ranging from pop culture to politics to philosophy. Or, a room full of underground intellectual rebels smoking cigars and plotting to overthrow the establishment. You get the idea. Such a cool house!

We left Boston, went back to Toronto, and it was in the second week of my vacation that my boyfriend and I decided to end our relationship because of some fundamental incompatibilities. It was a mutual decision, and I felt real closure, so it was ultimately a good thing.

About a week later, I got a message from Tom and he said I had left my scarf at his house. I was annoyed at my oversight, and this was tinged with sadness. Getting an e-mail from Tom reminded me of my ex and my breakup, which, while ultimately for the best, was really fresh on my mind.