reconnect

I met L one summer in Toronto. He's one of the most beautiful people I've ever had pleasure of laying eyes on. We met at a party in my friend K's backyard in Roncesvalles. We'd painted her apartment lime green and the patio furniture was reclaimed from the free section on craigslist. It set the scene for an inspired housewarming party with a crowd that frequented much of the world/brazilian scene events in Toronto. Most were Lula Lounge regulars, able to either dance or drum. There was a huge drumming circle going on in the garage for hours, and music was blaring from all levels of the house as K had convinced the other tenants to join in.

I knew some of the people, having worked in the cultural arts sphere for a while. L's brothers were there in the drum circle, and I was invited to go across to the Zellers parking lot to help schlep his drums back to the party so he could join in. We cut through the nearby dingy resto/bar filled with saggy eyed locals cosying up to pool tables. In that walk I think I learned that he was a Brazilian Canadian - his fam had moved him to TO when he was eleven and had three older brothers - two of which were at the party. We drank the over-cachaca'd mojitos K had made.

For one month, we basked in theexcitement of new summer romance, holding hands at outdoor concerts, taking long walks around the city, dancing, and spending time in the bubble of my apartment, cooking, kissing and listening to rainstorms. I began to understand the reality of dating someone who was immersed in the drumming culture of Toronto - literally no matter where we met, someone would pop up and start tapping on something. It would last for hours. It got under my skin a little bit.

He popped the bubble one weekend when we had plans to head up to a nearby farm area and camp with a bunch of the Brazilian friends. I recall the conversation was oddly turned around when he awkwardly tried to explain that he'd love for me to come, but he didn't want me to think we were exclusive and he didn't want me to be mad. In the most smart decision I've ever made, I basically shut him down and said I'd rather not go and for about a year we did not speak. The whole thing was rude and incongruous with the rest of the comfort and romance and my system could not deal with it.

A year later he showed up outside my house, called me, and asked if he could come in. I was nearby so I let him in, curious. He apologized for his abruptness, and what happened. He'd felt badly about it and it bothered him that he'd never let me know. I was actually glad for it as I wasn't sure if I was a crazy lady reacting to a bad situation, so I was calmed to know that he felt he had mistreated me in some way.

We didn't see each other too much but the bridge had been rebuilt, all was well. I ran into him in Kensington one day. He was playing with his brothers for Pedestrian Sundays. I waved hello. Later on he called me and we chatted for a little bit. I don't think either of us had any expectations anymore, but it was nice to hear from him.

Once I came back from vacation, he invited me over for dinner. He'd cooked this soul warming batch of thai peanut sauce stir fry which he'd made from scratch (I'm going to attempt the recipe he described next weekend) and we drank some wine on the front balcony of his new house and caught up. Next month he's headed on a huge bike trip from Toronto to south America. He plans to be away for about three years. He's funding it via the income from the tenants in his house that he just bought with the settlement money from the massive car accident he incurred some years ago that left him re-learning basic things like how to walk.

His manner is calm, his apartment is warm. The trip seems to inspire him. It's a required journey for him. I think he just needs to do it, meet people, experience life. I understand that from the perspective of having been in a major life changing accident myself that you learn that perhaps you need to take the time for yourself to live something that is an odyssey of sorts. After the accident, he couldn't walk, and so biking for him is one of those things that got added to the list of precious things.

He made my weekend. It was nice to reconnect, and hear how he's living his life in his own way. I'm always looking for different perspectives.