I wrote something in my (flu induced) delirium

There are these exceptional moments in my life when I have connected with someone profoundly, but it is only after years from that moment do I understand its profundity. After a week, the moment fades and I temporarily "forget," not because it was forgettable, but because the brain is easily bombarded with so much, so much random inconsequential shit.

When I do remember a moment, I feel this instantaneous tenderness deep within. 

There was this one time when I was sitting in a Booster Juice waiting for my then boy friend. I had just moved out of my parent's place, again. I moved out when I was 16. After three years, I moved back home, tried to live with them again, but only lasted for 6 months, and inevitably wound up regretting the decision. I hate my family. And I've always regretted reconnecting with my family, even to this day. I'm 25 now. I luckily found a sublet not too far from the university. It was the first place I paid rent outside of the welfare the government gave me during high school.

I was sitting at this Booster Juice after class waiting for Alex to show up. He was finishing his last year of high school. We were meeting half way so we could bus back to his place. We always went to his place because he didn't want to come to mine. It was too much for him, I guess. Maybe my place was an embarrassment.

As adolescent, becoming young adults, we were both emotional volatile. He didn't trust me -- he never ever did -- but he especially didn't now because I made out with some other guy. He had major trust issues. And so did I. But, to preface, he always struggled to be with me, and I always felt unloved with him, my family, even my friends. So one night I found myself in someone else's arms who wanted me and said the "right" things. Alex and I fought like young people always do. I told him about the other guy both because of the guilt and because I thought he would love me if I told him the truth. And then he, Alex, somehow wanted me more...  Isn't that how it usually is?... But to be fair the relationship wasn't always his fault... We didn't last far beyond this; it was the final straw among other straws.

While at the Juice bar, I was sitting next to this woman. She looked over at me and asked me how to get to the Grand River Hospital. Politely I told her she could walk straight down King Street, but it would be quicker to take the bus. She said she was in the mood to walk. It was February, the coldest and most bitter time of the year. I asked her, are you sure? It's so cold. She said yes, she need to clear her head. And without thinking, and being too curious, I asked her why... Evidently, she was in the mood to talk and didn't mind my bad manners. She elaborated and said she was from Quebec, and was used to the cold, but particularly today, she needed to walk, to stretch time. She told me her sister was in the hospital dying of cancer. It was only a matter of days. The night before, her whole family (the sister's family) were sitting around her settling the final details. One thing in particular pushed her over the edge: Picking out the funeral songs. This woman sitting next to me, you could feel all of her emotions. Anger. Frustration. Sadness. Confusion. Helplessness. She said it was so morbid to be alive to pick your funeral songs when you know you are going to die. But on the other hand to do it in front of your family there is a sense of closure, a few more moments to say good-bye. To do something together one more time...

This woman next to me cried without realizing it in front of me. And I cried, too. I told her that she was so fortunate to have such a loving family. To have someone to cry for, to cry with. In the solemnest times. And to have familial love. I envied this woman so much because she felt so intensely for her sister, and loved her so deeply. I had a boy friend that didn't love me. I had a family that abandoned me. 

And I cried for her, for me, and the whole thing. We cried together.

She was in her 40s. I was 19 at the time. We parted ways. Before she left, we hugged each other really hard. It was very beautiful. We connected intrinsically. For that brief moment.

I only recently remembered this moment. I think I told Alex what happened but it didn't strike him, obviously, as much as it did for me. He had his own emotional turmoil. I'm sure if you asked him today he wouldn't even remember me telling him about this beautiful moment. 

Because it was beautiful.

It's strange how you forget these type of memories.

That day, I know I grew up a little bit. And I know that despite everything Alex and I went through to stay together, I grew apart from him that day. 

This was just one of those beautiful things that I endured in my life...