the days before 30

“We’re the infinity symbol. It loops around and around and around and around.”

My spiritual friend traces the shape of a figure 8 in the air.

Not a straight line. Not a linear path. But rather, we are endless. We are continual. 

Endless. Continual. Renewal. Revival.

-

My friends, my beautiful people, my angels, my everyone. 

It’s Monday morning, June 12th. Sunshine is streaming into my Roman apartment. I have a cioccolato flavored espresso beside me. My blinds are half open / half shut, since it is that time of year when it becomes 30 degrees at 10 AM. My hair is still damp from my shower last night, but I put it in a braid with a blonde enhancing leave-in conditioner in hopes of achieving perfect beach waves. I call it my Carrie Bradshaw hair. 

There are 2 days until I turn 30, and on my last weekend of my twenties, I did this: absolutely. nothing. For the first time in a long time, I dedicated my Saturday and Sunday to staying in bed, meditating, doing a sheet mask (linked because it was incredible), eating stuffed pasta, and watching the entire season 13 of RHONJ. Needless to say, I woke up and felt the best I’ve felt in a long time.

Can I be honest with you? I missed my Toronto Friday night glow routine. I first started to write to you every Friday night. I’d walk to Summerhill Market, and pick up some sort of ready-made meal. I’d sit in my backyard, catch up on every housewives show, listen to a housewives podcast, then lie on my yoga mat with Goose and Toulouse, and do some sort of hyralounic treatment. While I was lying there, I’d write. Hyralounic treatment on, legs up on the wall for lymphatic drainage. The “glow” part of the Friday evening routine. And here we are. A year and a half later. 

I missed that little part of my old life. Those places, those routines, those pets, those memories. They really meant something to us. But luckily, those stories live inside us for when we need a little revisiting. 

-

“Love is messy. What are you going to do when it’s not sparkly and light anymore? Walk away?”

My spiritual friend says to me. 

I don’t know why that one sentence: love is messy hit me as hard as it did. 

I think about the last conversation I had with Peter Pan. The uncomfortability of it all, the sadness, the silence that lingered in the air. But it was those unspoken words that hurt the most.

“Are you going somewhere?”

He’s getting ready to leave, and looks at my suitcases that are sprawled out across my living room, and my couch that is dedicated to half of my summer wardrobe.

Carrie. A very Carrie moment.

“No. I’m here for the summer. Are you?”

“No. I’m in Rome for the summer, too.”

-

Everyone is meant to teach you something, but don’t forget - you teach them something, too. 

There’s a beauty in maintaining positive relationships with the people that you’ve dated, granted, even if it was for a short period of time. Those stories to revisit when we need them the most. 

I did a very Leo-Rising thing. On the last week of my twenties, I decided to ask some of the flings of my past what they learned from our brief stint in time. 

“Well, one thing is that you’re never bored with someone who’s your equal in wit and banter.”

Our First Muse says to me.

I roll my eyes and laugh at this. 

“But you become painfully aware of that banter when it’s missing. And timing is everything. Right person, wrong time. Or - wrong person, right time.”

My Leo-Rising pride gets immediately offended at the wrong person comment. 

“I mean, I definitely don’t think it was the wrong person.”

“I don’t think so, either. I’m saying in general. Timing is paramount. People will settle for the wrong person, just because they think it’s the right time.”

He makes a strong point. 

“Well,” I tell him. “I’d say - right person, shit time. But a time I’m always extremely grateful for.”

“I have 100% the exact same sentiments.”

Oh, Our First Muse. 

On to our next. 

“Ok, some things I learned (and this won’t come as a surprise) - park dates could actually be bearable, and taste in music is a much bigger point in connection than I originally thought.”

I also roll my eyes and laugh at this. “Bearable - there’s a compliment in there, somewhere.”

Ah, that Covid-summer romance. My first park date that honestly, kind of hit it out of the water. Sunset, the skyline, a blanket filled with all-dressed and BBQ chips, fuzzy peaches and Haribo gummies. 

“I like everything except for Jell-O.” I remember telling him when he asked me what my favourite snacks were.

“Bringing Jell-O wasn’t exactly at the top of my list.”

“Sorry, I was just thinking about what they sell at a gas station.” I make myself laugh.

That was one of my favourite summers. He took me to the driving range, and, in a shock to no one - I was, in fact, terrible at golf. But we still made out on top of his car, and listened to his epic 3 am playlist on the car ride home (and to this day - I will never forget when he asked me for directions to the shortest route to my house, and then proceeded to take the long route. That was a cute move.)

And to our third. 

“Ok, I think that if you try and put yourself out there after a break up - if you know the person you’re going out with is genuinely a kind-hearted person, you should make sure your intentions are clear.”

Intentions and honesty. An interesting situation I found myself in at the end of 2019. A lot of fun and a lot of confusion. But those are the best kind, aren’t they?

It’s hard to even know what our own intentions are in a situation we find ourselves in. I always thought intentions were person-based.

But, like Our First Muse says - timing is everything.

I don’t tell Number 3 this, but the kind-hearted person compliment isn’t one that I take lightly.

After a series of questionable Roman encounters that have left me wondering if anyone actually cared to know about me at all - this was a beautiful reminder that, there were / are in fact people in your life, who saw you for more than just what your body was offering to them.

And in fact, none of them even brought up sex. It was the conversations and the experiences and the feelings that they themselves remembered and reflected on.

Everyone you meet is a lesson, and you were a lesson to them, too.

Here’s the thing: we all carry different versions of the same story. But that’s what makes them so beautiful. 

That infinite storyline that lives inside of us. How one person has that power to shift a perspective, change a narrative, and open our minds to something that we were never sure existed in the first place.

-

I’m still laying in bed when Peter turns the knob of my door to leave.

“Are you coming to say bye?” He calls out.

I get out of bed and walk to the door to give him a hug. Hugs aren’t common here, but it seems cold to give him a kiss on the cheek.

He looks down at the floor. “I’ll see you around the world.”

I don’t know what he means by this. I don’t ask, but pull away and sigh instead.

“I’ll see you.”

There are so, so many things I wish I had said.

Love is messy.

-

A few days later, a message from my spiritual friend comes in.

“Emily, is there a chance you might be pregnant?”