Hi friends,
I know I just wrote to you, but I realized - I have the privilege of not being on a strict schedule. Or any schedule at all. I always forget that this my platform, this my medium, this is my baby - and I can write to you whenever I want.
I also forget that, sometimes, when I feel lost or lonely - I can post * silly things * on my IG stories (hehe follow me to giggle if you’re not already) - or, I can reach out to you here. You know my deepest and darkest secrets, anyway. We’re a community.
I just made myself a cup of tea. Rose buds in hot water, to be exact. My sister bought me a bag before I came back to Rome this summer. Did you know that rose buds are a natural detoxifier? And with that being said - you have to be super careful with how much you put into your water. But as I slowly sip on it, I realize that tea has always been comforting.
I have to be honest with you guys. I’ve been feeling really lost lately. And usually I’m good at floating and faith-ing (I just made that up). Usually I’m good at living in uncertainty, and of not having expectations.
The possibilities - that’s how I usually see them.
Oh wait, before I continue - I have to tell you that the MATF asked to me to get a coffee with him this morning. But I was asleep when he messaged me, and so I responded 2 hours later. My best friend thinks this is a big deal - and I have to agree with her. We’ve never hung out outside of the bar, unless it was to hook up after his shift.
Listen, I’m just happy that a cool and respectable guy that I do like wanted to hang out with me in a normal setting. I feel like he’s always wanted to, too - but maybe he’s been scared. I don’t know, but, the gesture did mean a lot to me.
Anyways. Here’s why I’m feeling lost. And it’s not the usual rhetoric of “Help! I’m 31 and single!” It’s: Help! I’m 31 and am wondering if I am always going to be in search of something I will never have again.
I envy those who can call their parents and ask them if they can come home. For a day or two, or for as long as they need. I envy those who parents come to visit them overseas, or take them on a family vacation. I envy those who don’t feel forgotten, replaced, or even misplaced. I envy those who don’t feel like their love and need to feel safe and secure is a burden.
When I come “home” to Toronto - I float between Airbnbs and guest bedrooms. Which I am so grateful for - and I’ve even formed friendships with some of my hosts - because angels in the form of strangers. But this is why I get upset when my friends ask me, “When are you coming home?” because it is not as simple for me as it is for them.
On my IG Stories (I’m telling you - this is where I gossip) - I filled everyone in on the latest. There was a wildfire that erupted right beside my apartment a few weeks ago, and we had to evacuate. Then, last Friday, I almost got pickpocketed. Thankfully, in both of those situations - everything was okay. My apartment was fine, and I managed to shoo away the hands of pickpocketers and bolt to the nearest security guard, who then escorted me to the bar. (Low key - I’m kind of impressed and proud of ability to handle trauma lately. But I don’t think I really would like to exercise these skills anymore. Please.)
So, needless to say, I’m not feeling like I’m 100% on steady ground in Rome anymore. I mean, was I really ever? I guess that’s the beauty and the pain of this city.
I feel like I’m walking through this field of uncertainty. And I understand when Hot F. said, “It’s hard for a man to picture a future with someone who doesn’t feel stable.” And I understand when the MATF said, “I’ve learned that I need to keep both my feet on the ground with you.”
I understand the sentiments, because, truly, I know I’m not stable. But this is because I haven’t known what stability is, since, before Mom got sick.
Whenever I feel like I need a pep talk from someone who’s older, from someone who’s wiser - I think of Future Emily.
Future Emily has fallen head over heels with a man who has also fallen (and dare, I say, even the tiniest bit MORE) head over heels for her. Future Emily has long, flowing hair with hazelnut highlights. She still wears her extra large signature shades (but she has a few more Vintage Chloes that she added to her collection - and that her rich boyfriend bought her). She has a bathroom drawer dedicated to face masks. Her boyfriend made sure their apartment had a room where she could write in. It has little candles that smell like lavender and roses, and a cozy white throw on the back of the chair. She even has a tiny pink Nespresso machine, and she’s convincing him to let her get a wine fridge in her writing nook so she can store a few bottles of Pinot there for when she needs a little inspo. The pro to this is that her boyfriend owns vineyards, so he’s just happy that Future Emily is showing interest in good wine, not cheap wine.
Future Emily’s boyfriend bought her an apartment in Paris. Or another chic, French city. He knows she needs her space sometimes, and he, when she needs, doesn’t put up a fight when she wants to visit her friends at her bar back in Rome, where he knows everything started.
Future Emily’s boyfriend makes her feel safe. He tells her he has her back, daily. He tells her she is the most beautiful girl in the world. He tells her, “there’s nothing we can’t figure out together.”
Future Emily gives me a hug. She still smells like Louis Vuitton Rose Des Vents. And I think I can hear her saying to me:
Love will be the the thing to ground you. And love is the thing that’s grounding you, but sometimes it’s just hard to see it. Don’t give up. Please don’t give up on me, and please, please, please don’t give up on us.