These Melancholy Moments

Finally home from New York. That Sweet, Baby-faced Intimate Encounter Who Won’t Go Away picked me up from the airport and dropped me off. Like I said, he’s sweet. Eleven years too young for me, but sweet. And when I say « Who Won’t Go Away, » I don’t mean it to be insulting. Quite the opposite, in fact. It’s just so ironic that a naughty, one-time intimate encounter has turned into an unlikely but lovely little friendship. 

Coincidentally, he read my previous post and did not love being referred to as That Sweet, Baby-faced Intimate Encounter Who Won’t Go Away. When asked what he would prefer to be referred to, he said, bless his young-even-for-twenty-seven-year-old heart, and I quote: « Mister Big Dick. »

Needless to say, I shall continue to refer to him as That Sweet, Baby-faced Intimate Encounter Who Won’t Go Away.


Finally home in my appartment. Alone at last. I cleaned. Did the laundry. Went grocery shopping. Made dinner. Made my lunches for the week. Unpacked. Made sure that each pair of pants was hanging with two shirts in the closet. Put away my new books, organized by theme on the shelf. Noticed that it was 7:27pm and still light out.

It was just beginning to get dark, when completely unexpectedly, I burst into tears.

Who knows why. Perhaps it was the solitude I so rarely have because of all my airbnb and couchsurfing guests. Perhaps it was the calm setting in as I now begin the pause between my last adventure (New York) and my next (Montréal). Or maybe, bubbling to the surface, despite how good and right I know my decision was, it was pain and anger surrounding the recent and abrupt ending of my two-and-a-half-year relationship.

I just don’t know.

I do know that everyone always says how strong and independent I am. And they’re right. I am. But that’s not the whole picture. Sometimes I am fragile. Afraid. Full of self-doubt. Sometimes…once in awhile…I guess I, too, feel lonely.

At moments like these, when I am not strong, I close my eyes and you know what I long for? A big. Strong. Hug. Can you imagine? A hug! A hug would absolutely save the day. The arms of a loved one, wrapped around little me! What a silly girl I am after all, hey, world? Yes, a hug. Right now, a hug would be…


À propos de Stina

If I could tell you about me in a neat and tidy definitive statement, I don't think I'd be writing this blog.
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