By Lucy

When I do get to sleep, I sleep surprisingly well. Nonetheless, I miss being in Fort Frances already. The money, the large bedroom to myself. The soundproofing in that place was pretty mint as well.

And Kyle. It’s impossible to go from being together 24/7 to not seeing him at all, and not feel it.

Now for a long, painful comedown as I withdraw from the nicotine exposure, the chest-thumping bellicosity of a scaffolding job, and the dopamine from a new relationship.

Yay.

Emily is gone early, pet-sitting for someone. I wander into their room to bother Hanuman. My head and my chest ache. “Why do people tickle someone?”

“Affection, amusement or cruelty.” He says, tilting his head curiously.

“Kyle likes to tickle me.”

“That must be difficult for you, since you’re not a very physical person.”

“I dunno… I kind of liked it.” I say, wrapping my arms around myself. “I miss him.”

After a moment, Hanuman comes over and hugs me.

---

“Your hair is so long!” He comments, later.

Is it? I suppose it has changed a lot in 6 weeks, more noticeable with a short haircut. The average person’s hair grows about half an inch a month and mine definitely grows faster than that.

Kyle’s on the road already. I immediately go into Oracle mode, since I’m just going to be on the computer all day anyway, keeping 511 and the Facebook page for Northern Ontario roads open in the other screen. I try to update him once an hour, but to be honest, the roads are pretty good and there’s not much to say.

I boot up Dolphin and the PC quickly crashes, to the point that the GPU rebooted in ‘safe mode’. Turns out the driver installer for my GPU got corrupted or something, so it wasn’t updating. Reinstall and a bunch of updates later, everything is golden again.

At 1 I head out for the dentist. He’s the third one to try and fix my front teeth, and I don’t have much faith in him, but maybe once this one doesn’t work we can just go with a crown.

Surprisingly, he manages to not only fix the cavity in the back next to the wire, but he also manages to remove the stain on the front! Now my teeth look perfectly pearly, which every other dentist had said would require veneers! (Worth noting; not only are veneers expensive, but they need to be replaced every decade or so, because they permanently alter your teeth, so you are stuck with them)

On the way home, I stop at the cheese shop to grab cheese curds for Hanuman’s stocking. I grabbed them a cookie version of tik-tack-toe from the farmer’s market as well. I’m too mentally drained to do much shopping, but I did want to grab them something.

Later on in the day, when I can feel my face again, Kyle calls me and we chat for a bit.

“You and Paul are close, huh? He looks after you.”

“Yeah, he’s kinda like my older brother.”

“What does his wife think about it?”

“She’s fine with it… now.”

“How long have you been friends?”

“Oh, a little over a year…”

“Wait, what?”

I laugh, “Yeah, we only met in August last year. I only moved here in March 2024, you know.”

“Oh.” I guess he thought I’d been here for longer.

“What did Darryl say about me?” I ask.

“Oh!” He laughs. “He asked if you were a hooker.”

“What?” I shriek with laughter. “Does he have that little faith in your ability to get laid?”

“I think he was just being funny. When I told him you were a scaffolder, he offered to hire you.”

I’m not interested in moving back to Toronto, but it’s tempting, the idea of doing a job or two in southern Ontario, especially since the first job would be in Niagara. Niagara is like the Vegas of Canada. Grab the stuff I left behind, say hi to people I haven’t seen in two years, make some more cash.

It’s also funny that Darryl offered to hire me, sight unseen, because I’m willing to bet that it’s less because he wants another apprentice and more that he just wants to keep Kyle happy. Scaffolders of his caliber are rare in southern Ontario. But again, if someone wants to pay me 3k a week to keep his bed warm, it’s no skin off my back.

Sleep takes a long time to come. My head hurts. Withdrawing from Tylenol as well. Maybe I should have kept the pot vape… but I was starting to get diminishing returns from it.

I know logically how to deal with these feelings, but of course, that’s not quite how that works. I should feel them, but I’m not good at that.

Back to cold logic it is!

In the morning, I googled how to make long distance relationships work. Google says they work best when both members are independent and have a strong sense of self. Well, that sounds better already.

One thing I did know already is that, statistically speaking, men say “I love you” first, in direct opposition to most media portrayals. Which only makes sense; men are trying to lock it down, women are trying to find the best partner and so shop around. Apparently, men usually say it around 88 days, which seems kinda short… Not even 3 months. But then, what do I know of normal human relationships?

Scroll through his Facebook out of longing and boredom. I found a trip he did 4 years ago, almost to the day, that his buddy was live-blogging. Seems they rented a car, drove it to Edmonton overnight, waited a day, and then drove back.

“Why would you drive overnight to Edmonton?” I ask Paul.

“New Years Eve party?”

“They drove back before NYE.”

“Drugs.”

That tracks. Funny… 4 years later, pulling an all-nighter back for a different reason. I wonder what happened to the buddy who posted this? The only person he ever mentions is Darryl. Scroll down further; buddy hasn’t posted happy birthday on his page for a couple of years. A falling out?

I check out the buddy’s page. A name leaps out at me; Kyle has it tattooed on his person. I keep following the lead. This kid is dead… vehicle accident.

Wait, what? Like me, Kyle was close enough to someone to get a tattoo of their name after they died… and in a car crash, no less, just like Luke, but he didn’t mention it? That seems like something any ordinary person would share, a point of connection. How closed off is this guy?

(Foreshadowing)

Alright, enough self pity. Time to try my new travel kettlebell!

I put my hands on my stomach. It’s weird for my stomach to be flat again, although I still miss the abs, but then it’s also strange to feel my ribs now. I can also tell I put on muscle because the temperature in the apartment feels different. Contrary to popular belief, fat does not keep you warm… or at least, not as warm as muscle does. Having more muscle requires your metabolism to kick up to maintain it. It’s not great, though… I’m in between being cold enough to need a sweater, and warm enough to not need one, so I keep taking it off and putting it back on every five minutes.

The new kettlebell is pretty good. Admittedly, the problem it has over a regular kettlebell is that it’s quite bulky, so some of the overhead lifts can make it smack you in the face. I opted for 5 liters of water, which weighs 5 kilos, and that bopping you in the nose is not nothing. Still, I’m happy with my purchase.

Hanuman came over and laughed at my attempt to flex my bicep. “I have a better idea. Hold your arms straight at your sides.”

I did as I was told. He put his hands under them and it felt like he was trying to lift me up, but I didn’t budge and barely felt like I was resisting.

“Wow, you did put on muscle! Most people, their shoulders go up, but yours didn’t move at all.”

I email Chris to ask him if he wants to go for coffee before I leave. He said he was available later on in the day.

More packing.

One thing I should do is work on the foil blankets. Unfortunately, when I started laying them out to iron them together, I discovered very few people had washed them out for me. Some of them even donated completely useless bags, like Fishermans Friend! (Small, palm-sized bags for cough drops) Still, I did what I could.

Shortly before 3, Chris arrived and we went to the Copper Kettle. Which was silly of me, because a new coffee shop just opened in Westfort called Sweet Resilience and it has been getting rave reviews, but I forgot.

After we order and are seated, Chris immediately asks, “So tell me about the boyfriend.”

Where do I start, where do I start… I tell them a bit about Kyle.

“He’s been a bit of a bad boy… He has an ignition interlock.” I confess. Kyle probably wouldn’t like that being one of the first things mentioned, but I view talking to Chris as asking a grandparent for advice. I want to know if I’m being silly by ignoring that part.

Chris knows what that is. Susan needs it explained to her. She shrugs it off, “He learned his lesson, and he’s got a car.” Sure, that’s as neutral a way to interpret it as you can get.

Susan has all the questions, almost like a job interview. “Well, we know he has a job. Does he have savings?”

“Susan, they just met.” Chris protests.

“We didn’t get into too much money talk, but yes, he made reference to savings, and he said he usually hits [REDACTED] a year.”

She nods. “Previous relationships?”

“Recently divorced. Three years ago.”

“Packed baggage, that’s good. Siblings?”

“A sister.” Packed baggage, that’s a good term. He’s not naive about marriage, he’s not tormented over it either.

“Good, then he won’t be guilt tripped about abandoning his parents.”

Susan has thought of everything.

Eventually we get away from the Kyle talk and talk about travelling. Chris feels strongly that I should visit India. He also admits that him and Susan travelled to Pakistan and Afghanistan when both were in border skirmishes with other countries, which involved being driven as close to the border as they could get and then walking the rest of the way.

Well, I can’t really beat that for boldness, can I?

I’m actually not sure I want to visit India, to be quite honest. It doesn’t call to me. And it is pretty stereotypical “girl travels to find herself” territory.

Talked about sailing a bit. Chris jokingly thanked me for taking myself off the roster this year, because he’s got too many people asking him to be crew next year. That’s why I laugh when people cast aspersions on Chris’ ability to sail; maybe he’s not the best skipper, but he is the only one who has to draw lots for who is crew, when the other captains are benched because they don’t have enough to sail!

“Important question; will Kyle sail?”

I laugh, “You already have enough crew, don’t you? But probably.” Scaffolders make good crew, although I’m not sure he’d actually enjoy it.

Susan wants to stop at the LCBO, so I go in with her and grab a small bottle of Crown. Just to take the edge off of everything I am suffering from.

Back home, to pack and mope.

Have a couple shots before bed. Still can’t sleep.

Say you can’t sleep, baby, I know
That’s that ‘me’ espresso

I’m in a melancholy mood Wednesday morning.

Well, shit.

It doesn’t help that Kyle keeps teasing me with comments like “we’ll have to go back to Kangas” sometime. Or is it teasing? It feels mean, when we’ve made no concrete commitments to see each other again. Or that’s the point… he’s letting me know he’s thinking of coming back?

Gah!

This must be what dating me is like. Apologies to some of my ex’s (some of them definitely deserved it).

He does tell me he’s not worried about me getting too depressed in his absence because I seem pretty content with travelling.

Oh, if only you knew…

Actually, this is usually the moment people start complaining at me to be honest about my feelings. So I decide to tell him the truth; I’m not happy travelling. I’d be happier if he were here.

Silence.

I don’t hear from him the rest of the day, which makes me a little nervous. But, he’s probably just processing, so I give him space.

Well, he had a chance to tell me to stay, and he didn’t, so I start looking at plane tickets.

My goal was the cheapest way across the Pacific, when it comes down to brass tacks. It’s the most expensive, longest leg of the journey. Surely once I’m in Asia, everything is a quick, cheap plane ticket or bus ride away.

Fiji was immediately too much. 2K for a ticket! Nevermind.

Bali was a second option, but the cheapest ticket I found was Thailand, 600$, one way.

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hit Thailand so early. I’d imagined Thailand a mid-point for my journey, when I needed somewhere cheap to be while I figured out next steps. You can live comfortably in Thailand for 600 CAD or less, depending on your goals; obviously living in the heart of Bangkok and doing all the touristy stuff will set you back more than living in a hostel and eating dried noodles. But ultimately I decided, cheapest way across the Pacific, figure the rest out later. Canadians are automatically allotted 60 days in Thailand, with options to stay longer.

When I was a wee lass, we went on a trip to Quebec. It was technically a French immersion trip, but since we went to a popular ski resort, not much French was needed. I always remember going out of my way to ask one of the staff members what they did during the off-season, and one of them said they worked for cruise ships, and I was so jealous… that seemed so impossibly cool, and so unattainable.

And now it’s me!

I have to convince Emily to go shopping, before it’s too late. She had some silly plan to go shopping after dinner, but of course all the stores are closed then. She waited until the last minute to buy a couple of things and the stores were sold out of them by the time we got there.

In the afternoon, Kevin came over for a last visit before I hit the road. He wanted to know all of the Redacted stories. Even Garry and the Vagabond weren’t this bad, although I suppose they probably would have been if they weren’t old and tired. And Kyle has so much energy even I forget he’s older than me, sometimes. At one point he called himself old and I exclaimed, “you don’t act like it!” And he replied, “Yeah, I’m basically just grey.”

Whatever. Finish playing Pikmin, ignore a bunch of messages asking when I am coming back. Can’t wait to leave again! I threatened to leave before Christmas dinner and Hanuman threatened to nail my feet to the floor.

And then it was Christmas.

Apparently Emily always makes a quiche for Christmas breakfast, but Hanuman warned me not to wait for it, so I made myself a smaller breakfast than usual and wandered back to my room to write.

Eventually it was time to open the stockings.

In my stocking I got a bag of gum, a Nerf gun, a Fill the Numbers book (which I traded with Hanuman for a word hunt), three of those little marble mazes, an orange, a fridge magnet, some chocolate, and one of those pop socket things for phones.

Also as a wrapped gift under the tree, I got a microfibre towel with a carrying case, and a small backpack that folds up into a little bag, which will be great for grocery shopping or hiking.

The quiche was good and we had some “Christmas tea” with it.

After a couple of hours, I was socialized out and went back to my room. Of all people, Bruce texted me to say Merry Christmas. Are we that close?

Charity is in the air. I’ve noticed social media is abuzz with good Samaritans; Uride is offering free rides home, and a few places are offering free dinners to people in need, no questions asked.

I spent an hour looking up things about Mae West. She’s my new spirit animal. I aspire to her level.

“I’ve no time for broads who want to rule the world alone. Without men, who’d do up the zipper on the back of your dress? ”

Jeremy texted me to ask me to remove the table and chair from his apartment.

Merry Christmas to you, too, stranger. Also, how? I’m leaving Saturday and he won’t be back before then! Just one more headache to deal with.

Packing, packing, and more packing.

Christmas dinner is served by 7. I feel a bit like a mooch, even though they are forcing me to be at the table.

We have a lovely meal. Hanuman ate all the skin off the turkey, and most of the giblets, although I was able to grab the liver from him.

Can’t sleep again.

Moving out day.

Tore down my rig. Nisha came by to grab the screens off me, since Paul doesn’t need them.

Kyle was mistaken about his probation appointment, it’s on Monday and not today. Which adds another 2 days to the time it’ll take him to come back! Lame.

We encounter a hiccup right away. Paul got stuck in a snowbank while plowing his driveway. Of course, instead of just saying ‘I got stuck and I’ll be late while I figure out how to get unstuck’, he told me to eff off. Classy.

He showed up an hour and a bit late and we started loading up the truck. It took two trips to get everything into his locker, mostly because the bed of his truck is full of his stuff. We were also waylaid by people calling him to dig them out, which I don’t mind.

Gave the keys back to Emily, and some of my paperwork. Just in case I get in trouble overseas, she’s my legal point of contact, to repatriate me.

And then I was packed.

It was a long day. Paul went home around 5 and I flopped on the bed and called Kyle to decompress.

Then trouble struck… again. My luggage broke.

Shitshitshit.

This is partially my fault… I should have tried this a couple of months ago, when I was arguing with Ekster about the broken strap, but I got frustrated and never went back to it. And, of course, now it’s Boxing Day and they’ll be too busy to help me.

Emily suggest luggage straps to hold it together. We went to Canadian Tire, but they were closed. Walmart was sold out. Emily suggested the Walmart on the other end of town as a hail Mary, but I was starting to feel like fate was giving me a hint to stay.

If this Walmart is sold out luggage straps, I’ll stay.

It was not.

That’s my answer, then.

Packed up and strapped it shut.

Bought my bus ticket, because I had been delaying it out of hope.

Next stop; Fort Frances.