I am haunted by the loss of it.

The missing is enormous. 

Now that it has a name… 

I have tried, and failed, to break up with this city. Any city. Particularly this one. Yet lately it feels like it might be the only tendrils holding me together. The noise. The clutter. The sadness.

And that fucking sky...

I assumed that the absolute fluorescent light that is a partner would turn it all off … all of the noise.

“...most people in the world don't really use their brains to think. And people who don't think are the ones who don't listen to others.” ― Haruki Murakami, 1Q84

The foreign feeling of spending the holidays without some (or all) of the loved ones we normally surround ourselves with, can come and sit on your shoulders like a lead jacket. Does it make it any easier to know that most humans on Earth also had to suspend their patterns and forgo the lovely feeling of seeing their family?

I have sat down to write even the briefest of thoughts about Gary Ellis Fossett at least once a week since his passing. Finally, months later, it comes out.

That fear and frustration that used to catch my elbows at the bend lives inside of my jaw now. I am helpless to the vice that feels like it is trying to pry my teeth from their gummy homes one by one, starting from the back.

We roasted hotdogs and marshmallows, and breathed in all of the calming coolness of the evening. She is truly a sight to behold. Both the park, and the woman I cannot wait to marry, and find myself always gleeful to share these moments with.

Coming from a young place--Canada is only just celebrating its 150th year as a nation--I was in awe at every turn during my short time in London.