Blessed be your lovely pants
The ones which shield you from cold and wet,
that add girth to your chicken legs,
and make you the man that you are.

A man who is warm, a man who is dry.
A man who, if hit by a flying ice pellet
Will remain unscarred
(as long as it doesn't hit you in the face).

Oops - did I hit your face with this sharp ice pellet?

This wretched season cannot be fought
without the slippery zipping sounds made by your beloved pants.
I will have my parents send your freedom pants immediately.
For I cannot bear the thought of your empty life
Without your trusty snowpants.

Beneath me is a busy street, around me are caffeine fiends, behind me are friends, yet I am momentarily stuck on what I cannot reach. My mind has not left our last encounter.

We were both so still, neither of us knowing how to react, as the lyrics so accurately depicted our feelings toward one another.

Alone, silent, and constricted we listened. I was so hopeful, you were so distant. As we created together your sadness lifted and the air was different. We left our hearts in our heads and explored the humor we've always used. After creating you told me that you felt the only cure for depression was creation. I smiled and felt like crying as I looked at your eyes. I had no response.

"I feel I must be wearing my welcome. I must be moving on. My intentions were good intentions. I could have loved you, I could have changed you. I wouldn't be so, I wouldn't feel so consumed by selfish thoughts. I'm sorry if I feel self effacing, consumed by selfish thoughts. It's only that I still love you deeply, it's all the love I got," sang Sufjan. We so silently listened. We did not look at one another. We were both scared in that moment. I was scared in that moment. I did not expect what I heard, I was scared of what I heard, as he had taken the thoughts out of my head.

Perhaps those lyrics did not strike you in the way they struck me. They were piercing. But I know you; your thoughts wander to places that I cannot reach in those moments.

Your mind travels so far. I used to know where you went, in your fits of silence, but you have changed. I know so little as the direction. East, West, near, far. I can only guess.

Now I sit at the window, silently listening to music that we so recently silently listened to together. Still so accurately depicting how I feel.

You have changed, you have grown, you have shrunk. I have done the same, for better and for worse. Our love is seemingly lost, but still lingers in every conversation and glance and thought.

This same place, where I wrote about you, both good and bad, where I spoke to you on the phone, where we came together. This place has not changed at all. It doesn't know how much we've changed, how much you've changed, or how much I've changed. But in some ways, we are just like this place in which I sit - we haven't  changed. We remain the same.

When things are put into perspective
everything becomes poetic
and beautiful
Even the grey snow on the freezing cold pavement
in this town that I hate

But an exchange of art and beauty
gives a good perspective
Today, Monday, I can thank Julia for that.
Thank you Julia.

On Saturday a cat followed me home
After my favorite evening of this year
so far
I wanted to keep him, but I knew I could not.
So I let him go (since: if you love something...)

And on Friday a four-year-long tension was released
(well, almost.)
How ya doin'? repeated over and over
I was just fine.

Now, today, still Monday
I sit in a coffee shop drinking coffee with soy
which I hate
waving at every third person that walks by the window
in this small, predictable town

Oh, to be lost in a sea of people
Where buildings tower above me
in a city that so many hate
But a city that I long for every day.

Should you ever wear colongne
For someone else
Because you are in love
Please leave me -

I don't mean to be dramatic
But I truly want, for us, happiness.
I will let you go, guilt free
As I and others have been let go before.

Should you have purely desire,
Please know the distinction.
And if we suffer together,
We will indeed have failed.

Pessimism is not what I intend,
I prefer realism in this life
[though as a romantic, that is hard]
Hopefully we will share this ideal.

If love can last forever, I hope that we will have it
If we do not, I will not hate you
Or whoever has stolen your heart
For what we will have built will be enough
Or it will not.

A cherished friend once told me:
You are who you love.
I am much of her. And I am much of my other cherished friends.

A lost love lives on in this way
I am so much of him - I practically am him. I've loved so much I've left myself behind.

In the streets of Manhattan, my soul left me. Maybe it stayed there, awaiting my return
With some new fling on my arm
To take me to the opera.

I gave away my lightness and naivity to a dark, cold man who I know is more than that [there has to be more than that].

I left my pride in Toronto on Bloor street
Where I  flirted with 3 [three] men. I wanted them all. I still want them all.

But I took only one. Except he took me. In moments he loves me so much he turns into me. But it is fleeting. And it has gone.

So as we let go we regain ourselves. I will take back my optimism, thank you.

And I will remain as myself until we meet again. Maybe then we won't be so selfish and take so much,
Only to give so little.

All my technology died
At midnight
Everyone else left the
Huge
Room
While inspiration kicked through my soul

I sit centred
Everything left and right
Identical
Soon will be darkness
But shortly again light.
Light! Light!

Symmetry in front of me is the only
Place it can be found