Friday 22 September 2023

A Profile on Charlie

As I mentioned in my previous post, my gap year was really rough.  I was very unsure what to do after my undergraduate.  All of Amin's talk about getting your life started really got to me.  This was part of his reason for thinking that he could never return to Canada: it would take too much time, and he wanted to get things moving for his life, like building a career and a family.  I had all but convinced myself that I needed in the next couple of years, to have a career myself.  In the end, I decided to accept the offer of an MA at University of Toronto only because I realised it was a no-lose scenario.  If I still wanted to go into an MA later where I could walk out onto the job market after two years, I could (I had been rejected from that program in my round of applications in my gap year.)  If I wanted to teach in the Cégep system after my MA, then I would be able to do so as well.  I could also go on to the PhD level if I really liked where I was.  All three paths were a good scenario, depending on what I wanted at the end of the MA year, and I would be applying from a stronger position with an extra degree under my belt no matter what I chose.  It was a no-lose scenario.

It is when I moved to Toronto that I met Charlie.  In fact, he made quite an impression when I visited for recruitment in the spring of my gap year.  I was so relieved at being shown around by a current student; it took away much of my anxiety of being in a new place and being quasi-interviewed about my academic interests and what my decision (yet unmade) would be.  When I first arrived for the MA proper, I tried to avoid running into Charlie: he was so high-energy that sometimes it would tire me to be around him.  I soon ended up speaking to him daily and seeing him frequently; we did live across the street from each other in residence.  He was the most intellectual person I had ever met, possibly even still, and I liked that very much about him.  I remember how Étienne told me that seemed an appropriate match for me when he met Charlie.  Our research interests were similar, so we had a lot to talk about.  I was still discovering what I should work on in graduate school, so Charlie was eager to mold me into a scholar in his area of study.  I still owe him a lot in terms of learning the vocation of what it is to be a scholar, and for getting me started.

It was clear very early on how he was interested in me.  I was still crying weekly over Amin, so I was not in the frame of mind to date.  I remember early in my degree going to a choral concert, a mashup of many different Broadway songs.  It came up recently in my facebook memories in fact; I heard for the first time the lyrics in the Broadway version of "Think of Me" from Phantom of the Opera, and I posted them: "Recall those days, look back on all those times, Whatever else you choose to do, There will never be a day, When I won't think of you!"  I really believed that at the time; I was still thinking of Amin daily and missing him dearly.  Charlie, however, cheerful as ever, kept coming back and trying, like a puppy who is just always happy, carefree, and ready to see if you will spend time with them.  I know I am glossing over a lot here, but I was pretty direct with him at one point about just wanting to be friends, something I quickly undid one month later when feelings appeared for me.

He had asked me to see a baroque music concert at which one of our mutual friends was performing.  It was a really nice evening, and I determined to tell him that I had started feeling differently about our relationship.  I felt like a first-class idiot, like I did with Amin.  Charlie had told me, in order to make me feel safer, that dating within the department was not a good idea.  So I told him that I understood that, but I had developed feelings for him, so now what?  I thought it took no one by surprise more than myself, because I had gone from thinking about Amin all the time, to not thinking about him anymore, and thinking about Charlie.  This upset me, as I had hoped to get over Amin in my own time, but sometimes you don't choose how these things happen.  Charlie, however, was completely stunned.  He hardly knew what to say.  He started babbling on about: was I really sure?  I could have my pick of anyone in Toronto; our department was big.  Was I really sure I wanted to date him?  His insecurities were talking, because he had never had his affections reciprocated before.  I was his first girlfriend.  I tried probably not aptly to explain that I was interested in him, not in anyone else.  We started dating from that moment, that perfect quiet moment sitting together in a chapel at his college.

Charlie's lack of confidence, however, was only the tip of the iceberg.  By the end of his first year of the PhD, he was burnt out, something not uncommon in our program.  He was worked up about passing one of the exams in our department, and spent most of the summer preparing for that.  It felt a bit like tug of war trying to get him to spend time with me too while he was studying.  After he got through the exam, I told him that it was a deal breaker for me for him to just disappear off the face of the earth like that agian.  I know I tried to get him into therapy at that point.  He did not feel that he needed it, however.  I should have taken my hint and left then, but I loved him deeply and wanted to keep trying.

By now, I was in the PhD program too, just a year behind him.  At the end of my second year, we moved in together.  He promised me that it would not be like those times I had stayed with him in residence during the summer.  He told me it would be better when there was room for two people, something I had no doubt of.  He told me he wanted to be more settled and less out till all hours of the morning at the pub.  He told me he wanted to be more responsible and keep his space.  I wanted to believe him.  There was only one way to find out if he was going to keep his word, I thought: move in with him and see how it is.  We fought about what we wanted in an apartment, and for a moment, I thought we would never agree.  We picked a great place in the end, and were both very happy with it.  I ignored all of the signs.

When we lived together, it was like pulling teeth to get him to contribute to the household.  He wanted to argue with me about how often something needed to be cleaned.  He did not believe me when I said that you could not spray chemical cleaners in a microwave.  Everything was a struggle.  I cooked and cleaned around him and could not get him to do things like pick up his books and socks which were everywhere.  He also told me that I was creating so much stress for him that I was slowing down his progress on his dissertation.  Finally, in a last ditch attempt, I got us into couples counseling.  The first thing he was told was that he needed a therapist to deal with things that came up in the couples sessions.  I had gotten him into therapy at last.  But none of this lasted.

I was in my fourth year of my PhD when I burned out.  I had been burned out before, but this was one of the most severe since I had first been diagnosed with CFS.  I had tried to maintain momentum after my qualifying exams, which came on the back of a year with a concussion and trying desperately to get through the exam which allowed me to take the qualifying exam, and therefore allowed me to stay in the program.  So many people fall off the cliff after qualifying exams in my department, and I was so determined not to be one of them.  I started running tutorials for the first time that fall, and tried to brush up on some Italian in preparation for a semester abraod in Rome.  When I got to Rome, I was so sick, I could not get out of bed.  I was nauseated all the time, and had all kinds of migraines.  I was just sleeping through the days.  I knew I was not ready for a four month intensive.  I crawled back home to Montreal to my parents' to rehabilitate.  I knew that if I were in Toronto with Charlie, I would not recover.  He was also very angry at me for not doing the program in Rome.  He was not supportive of my decision to return home.  It was incredibly hurtful.

I had my moment when I was at home recuperating when it died for me.  Charlie started reflecting on how poorly he was treated and how I would have to "win him back."  More than this, though, he told me that my behaviour towards him was abusive.  That was the moment.  This was the lose-lose scenario.  If I argued with him and told him that I was not in fact abusive, I would feed into the paradigm of the abuser who denies it.  If I accepted this assessment that I was abusive, then the relationship needed to end anyway because I was an abuser.  There was no coming back from this.  The irony is that, now I realised that I had to leave, I had to enact a safety plan.  Charlie had said to me on two occasions before that he "knew himself" and that he would want to be mean to me if I ever left him.  He said he would want to hurt me; I know this meant psychologically, not physically.  He told me he would want to steal my books, and that he would want to sabotage my career.  Because of this, my therapist recommended that I talk to the Campus Safety office, and I know that was the right move.  They helped me to develop a safety plan to extricate from the apartment.

I was about two months or so back in Toronto before my moving date.  In that time, I tried to enjoy my last moments with Charlie, whom I still loved dearly.  I just knew that this was not working, and that things were becoming more toxic by the day, and that I needed to leave.  I picked the time that was easiest for me, and I told Charlie I was leaving the day that I moved out.  He was devastated.  I had help packing up my things, and we left that same day.  My Dad drove me back home to Montreal and I was sure it was the absolutely wrong decision.  I felt so sick leaving my life with Charlie behind I was sure I was going to throw up.  My therapist told me that if it was a good idea to get back together with Charlie, it would still be a good idea in a couple of months.  This really helped me.  It was so hard for me to leave Charlie and give up on our relationship.  But I needed to do it.

Over the summer and the next few months, all I wanted to do was fix things with Charlie.  We met at summer conferences, and at first he refused to speak to me, as he had any other time I had contacted him.  We were sharing a bathroom in adjoining rooms at the first conference, and he refused to speak to me the first few days.  I just wanted to be able to be on good terms with him, and yes, ultimately to fix things.  He was favourable, and then not, and then favourable again.  Despite being yelled at, being locked out of the apartment we both still held a lease on, being berated, having our conversation recorded in case he needed to sue me, and him refusing for a long time to return some of the things I left at the apartment, I still wanted nothing more than for things to work out.  I asked him before I left for Rome again to do the program I hadn't managed to the previous year if he wanted to talk about where we were at.  He said "no."  

It was 2020.  Without knowing it, I had ended up in the epicentre of Covid in Europe: Italy.  I was still messaging Charlie, and I think he got to hear how I was repatriated to Canada with help from UofT's service InternationalSOS.  After that, it was radio silence, as it still is now.  I see him sometimes at the library, or at department events, and he refuses to speak to me.  He passes by me quickly, or at worst, hops across the room when I try to speak to him.  I was incredibly hurt by this at first.  I used to cry about it, and just to shake from the stress.  Now I am at ease with it, because I do not want to fix things anymore.  It just took a very long time to get to that point.

This is the very condensed version, and again, it eclipses many things.  It does not adequately convey the good things that Charlie did for me, and that our relationship was like before things started going downhill.  I did not even get to talk here about Charlie's drinking habits, which were a serious source of contention for us.  I just wanted some of the essentials to be here: how the dynamic developed from something good into something harmful, and how hard it was for me to let go.  I was ashamed for a long time that I had ended up in a relationship that had turned abusive.  The fact of the matter is, it can happen to anyone.  It can develop, like it did for me, or it can be abusive from the start, just so insidious it takes a long time to see it.  The best thing you can do for yourself is not to be too hard on yourself for finding yourself in this situation.  The most important thing you can do is leave as soon as you are able.  I was not able to leave very quickly, to my detriment, but I did leave, and that is what matters.

Again, my hope is that these words will help someone else who is going through something similar.  This will not be the last post about Charlie, just the first: the essential outline to give readers context for further thoughts and feelings.

Thursday 21 September 2023

A Profile on Amin

As a follow up on the “woes that lead to the present”, I decided it would be smart to give a summary of things so that I can write more on how I’m feeling now.  In order to for you to follow how I’m feeling now, you need a bit of context for when I start referring back to people and relationships.  The first person you know best, because I have quite a few posts on Amin in this blog already. 

Here, however, is how our story ended.

Over the Christmas holidays, Amin had gone to Tehran, the capital of Iran, to make inquiries about his compulsory military service.  He didn’t want to tell me anything about what had transpired until we were back together in person.  I don’t think it’s the first conversation we had, but I made him sit down with me in that first week for sure to break the suspense.  The news was not good: he had hoped to be exempt from service, but he found out that was not possible; the service was not for two years, but for three; and it was not in another year or so, but he needed to be back in Iran circa September of 2013, a mere eight months away.  I asked what this meant for us, and he said he didn’t know.

This was all very abstract for me while he was trying to figure out what to do.  I encouraged him to talk to a therapist to sort out what it was he wanted, because he was feeling so torn.  In the meantime, I was doing what I could to make him feel supported, and to try to move our relationship forward.  I was not trying to go leaps and bounds, but I was trying to avoid stagnation, which is where he was happy to place us.  We had a few wonderful moments, including a couple of purely magical dates I would have loved to recount every detail of especially when they were fresh in my mind.  Now I am in the time of summary, however, and not colours.

The final conclusion he came to was that it was too hard to have a long-distance relationship with me.  This is the thing he had asked me a few months prior, if I would be willing to do this.  I had been open at that point, and now my heart was so open and so willing.  He was not, though.  He was in the process of letting go of everything.  He was letting go of me, he was letting go of the place he wanted to live (Canada) and the career he wanted to have (working in the industry.)  He felt that Allah was pointing him towards living in Iran, and he was depressed because that is not what he wanted for himself.  He was depressed openly and giving up on all of his dreams.  He could not work as an engineer in industry without serving the Iranian government, so he knew he would have to teach instead.  He knew it would be hard to restart the immigration process in Canada after three years away; he no longer wanted to try.  It was too hard, he said.  It was not where Allah was leading him, he said.  “If only I’d gotten my permanent residency,” he would say, or, “If only I’d met you earlier”, as though this would change something.  So he showed signs of still fighting it, and wanting things to be different.  The one that really astonished me is how he took his French courses obligatory for Quebec immigration up until he left for Iran.  Why do that if you did not believe in coming back?  So many hours of his life wasted on that.

He did not want to give up his family.  How could I blame him?  He would never be able to set foot in Iran again if he skipped his military service to stay in Canada and stay with me.  I could never ask him to do that.  He explained to me that they would never be able to get a visa to get out and visit him.  The government knows how to use pressure tactics.  Could they not meet in Turkey? I wondered naively.  The Turkish government would likely turn him over as well.  There were so many things like this that my mind just spun through after he broke up with me, because he had done all of his deliberating in silence and without me.

My mind was reeling.  I wanted to do anything not to lose him.  At least, almost anything: when T told me I should marry him and that this could help his immigration status, I balked.  What if I wasn’t ready to marry him?  We had dated for four months.  How could this be my life?  How did I get stuck in a Nicholas Sparks film?  I proposed to him a couple of months after the breakup to go to Iran too for my gap year, and learn Farsi properly, understand his culture better, see where he comes from.  He refused.  I’m sure he was right, but at the time everything felt completely arbitrary.  I had freedom of movement unlike him, so why should I not take this important step to be closer to him before I began my graduate degree?

I lost my mind in that gap year.  I was also on a medication that was making me depressed as a side-effect, so it was a terrible combination of factors.  I had little hope for anything at all, including my own future.  I was sure I had lost my soul mate.  I had soul-level pain; that is the only way I know to describe it.  I had the feeling of the rug being pulled out from under me, and like my insides were completely gutted.

I still have to mostly pretend like this is not something that I experienced.  It was a film I saw, something I read.  It was not my life.  When I think about it more than just in a cursory way, I still cry.  In all this time, I couldn’t even bring myself to write it in my blog to give some kind of conclusion to this story I had been building.  Writing this tonight is very painful.

My only hope is that this will help someone out there trapped in a Nicholas Sparks film instead of their own life.  My only hope is that this will help me start turning the page for my own life.

 

Saturday 2 September 2023

It's Been a Long Time

It’s been a long time since I have updated my blog and I am not better for it.  In the creative exhaustion that grad school brings, and in my stubbornness to write this story in chronological order, I have managed to put a stop to my writing.  The truth, however, is that I need to be hopeful more than ever, so I want to try again.

It was so important for me to let unfold Amin’s story, to show how well-suited and happy we were together, how much in love.  I find it so reductive after breakups to say one sentence or two about how it did not work out.  I think it has been the most reductive for Amin.  It erases everything we had and everything we were to say that he rightly chose to go back to Iran to do his military service and not lose his family forever.

I am undergoing a similar grieving process at the moment.  I was sure I had lost my soul mate in Amin and that I would never love anyone again.  Two breakups later, I at once know that this is not true, but also feel it more than ever.  It has been about five months since Jeremy broke up with me, and I have that same feeling of nothing making sense in my life anymore.  I fight the feeling every day that I lost the love of my life, and that is it for me.

Here is a timeline to help catch you up to the present:

2012 – I met Amin and we started dating

2013 – In March, Amin broke up with me

2014 – I began grad school in Toronto and met Charlie.  We started dating.

2019 – I broke up with Charlie

2020 – I met Jeremy, and we started dating

2023 – At the beginning of April, Jeremy broke up with me

I am trying anything I can to heal from losing Jeremy.  I know myself, and I know how I can stay attached for a very long time.  I’m not getting any younger; it has been ten years since I updated this blog properly, since Amin left.  I don’t want to stay trapped like I did after my breakups with Amin and Charlie.  If any of this feels like you, hopeful reader, I hope you will find comfort in my words.  Sometimes it will be messy or ugly, but I hope we will find our way through.

~ Elise

Sunday 11 August 2019

Absence Makes The Heart Grow Fonder, Or Narrower

So for just over a month, Amin was home in Iran.  I remember I encouraged him to go, since his mother kept asking when he was coming, and the Christmas break presented such a good opportunity to go.  It was a good chunk of time, which one needs when making a big trip.  Thinking of going to Europe, most people need a good two weeks.  Iran is a bit further, and a couple of time zones over, so Amin felt like three was a minimum to be able to enjoy time there.  

I remember that he was concerned about being away from me for such awhile right at the beginning of our relationship.  I assured him that it would be fine, and that it was important for him to see his family; he hadn't been home in awhile, and they missed each other.  I told him that it was not like I was going anywhere, and I'd be there when he got back.  He got to see me every week, and the opportunities to see his family were rarer, so I figured he should capitalize on them.  Still, it was harder to say goodbye than I imagined, and as I mentioned in my last post, I didn't do such a good job of it, which made me feel awkward.


Most of the awkwardness melted away from continuing to talk pretty much as usual.  This was still the days when MSN was online (I miss that chatting platform so so much!).  When he was in Montreal, we talked daily, about everything, all the time.  I really wonder how we got any school work done, the pair of us!  So when he was in Iran, I expected that we would communicate less, because he was busy with his family, and needed to make up for lost time.  He also explained to me that the Internet situation is not great in Iran, as many websites are blocked.  They still had Google, unlike China, but no social media, and many other websites that we use here in North America every day and simply take for granted.  He told me that this would make it more difficult to communicate, and that sometimes there would be lapses of time where he could not connect with me.  Connections were less reliable, particularly when using some kind of work-around to bypass the website bans, so he could access things like facebook.  He was very motivated to do it, though, and so we stayed in touch with relative ease.  I think there was only once or twice he cut out in the middle of a conversation.


In fact, it really began to make me feel concerned at how he was coping with being away.  I felt like he was not making the most of the time with his family, which felt to me like a waste.  He spent a lot of time at the computer chatting with me, instead of experiencing things with his relatives.  I might have suggested quietly once or twice to him that he should spend more time with his family.  I did, however, put my foot down one day when I was out shopping with my mother and he had a bit of a meltdown.  I had at least three messages from him when I got back, with the tenor of "Where are you?!" and they seemed quite panicked.  I told him that it was the middle of the day, I was out, this was Normal, and that he needed to not freak out about that.  I said furthermore that this kind of behaviour was excessive, and could even be construed as controlling or stalker-like.  So maybe I pushed my point a bit far... It woke him up very fast, though, and he was mortified when he realized how his messages could have come off.  Problem nipped in the bud immediately: this never happened again.


The remaining awkwardness resulted from vibes.  I just scrolled back through my posts to see how much I had said about them, and I am pleased to see that the subject has had a good preliminary discussion, particularly in the post Two Chocoholics.  Certainly since Amin and I first met, we both picked up on each other's feelings in one another's presence.  Again, one could argue that we were detecting facial cues, or noticing body language, or something of that sort that would give an indication of how the other one was feeling.  This cannot explain how we were able to sense one another's feelings when not physically together.  This simply continued as usual while Amin was away, despite the distance being multiplied exponentially across continents.  Perhaps this explains part of Amin's desire to talk to me a lot from Iran.  I know at least one time he was visibly distracted in company: it was New Year's Eve, and he was sitting around the table with many relatives.  I knew it was midnight there already, so I was fantasizing about that New Year's kiss I had never yet had, but seen so many times in movies.  Amin felt that, and got such a look on his face, that people asked him what was wrong, and if he was okay.  If anything, I think our psychic bond was growing stronger.


Absence can certainly make you grow fonder of another person.  I think it is the yearning that can make you pull closer.  I had asked Amin how to say "I miss you" in Farsi.  He explained that you say "my heart is narrow for you" ("delam barat tang shode").  He said that was supposed to be the image of how it feels when you miss someone, how your heart gets narrower.  I immediately recognized that tight feeling in your chest as your heart is hurting, as though no air can get to it, or you can't breathe anymore.  I marveled that Farsi had an expression precisely for that feeling.  I'm still amazed at what a beautiful, clever, and evocative language it is.




P.S. Since I do not have a better place for this, I am going to finish this post with the beautiful Christmas e-card that Amin sent me.  He delayed delivery, because he knew he would be traveling on December 25th.  I was so touched!  From what I remember of the attached message, he called me his "Christmas angel" 💖
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bRNXC8dRMII






Monday 10 June 2019

Short December

This is a post I did not have a draft for, but nevertheless is essential to the timeline.  It is for time spent with Amin in December, which was short, since he was headed home during the holidays.  Yet, in just over a week, we had a couple of very memorable moments together.

For my birthday, my Dad gave me two tickets to see Loreena McKennitt, so that I could take whoever I wanted.  I forget at what point I told Amin that I wanted him to go with me; it might even have been before we started dating.  Knowing that he loved her music like I did, I could not think of a better person to treat to my concert birthday gift.  I had seen her during her Ancient Muse tour twice, and had been with various friends and relatives, so now it was his turn.  He felt a bit uncomfortable at first, until I explained that it was my gift, so it was my choice who I would bring, and that he should not feel strange about it.

So, on December 7th, the time had come for the Loreena concert.  I remember that we had seats pretty near the stage and I was really stoked when I saw the lantern before the performance started.  I called it: she was going to sing Dicken's Dublin.  She said it was the first time she tried it in concert, and hoped that technology would cooperate to incorporate the recording which she plays alongside the music in this piece.  Everything went off without a hitch, and it was magical.  Amin and I were simply thrilled as she played so many of our favourites.  It is still amazing for me to think that we grew up on opposite sides of the world and listened to the same music.  There were many tender moments holding hands and squeezing them as she intoned lyrics from Penelope's Song ("I will keep your heart with mine, Till you come to me"), or Never Ending Road ("Here is my heart, I give it to you, Take me with you across this land, These are my dreams, So simple and few, Dreams we hold in the palm of our hands").  I know we floated out of Place des Arts, a place that now had a couple of great associations for us.  I also remember killing time before catching my bus sitting with him in the deserted Complexe Desjardins and sharing many good kisses.



My sweetheart putting ornaments on the tree
like a pro
(Seems I broke my rule of never posting a
picture for you readers to ogle at... I'm
calling this an exception since he's in profile
and all you snoops can't figure out Amin's
real identity, or at least so I hope!)
December 9th, we invited Amin over for tree trimming.  He had expressed an interest in Christmas, and experiencing it with people who celebrate it, and experiencing it with me.  Of course, he was not going to be in Montreal over Christmas, so we had him join us for putting up the tree and decorating it.  He was really excited.  My sister's boyfriend was with us too, and it was his first time decorating too, so it was perfect.  The part that was a surprise for all of us, was how my Mom put on a small Christmas dinner for us that day.  She didn't even tell me that she planned to do this!  She cooked a chicken, and made many of the traditional fixings that go with turkey, I think some stuffing and cranberry, and mashed potatoes.  When I realized what she was doing, and all the work she was going to at such a busy time of year, I was really touched.  Amin was also really happy to have a taste of Christmas.  After supper, we even opened Christmas crackers and wore the hats and read our jokes.  It made parting for the
                                                                         holidays not feel half so bad.


One thing that really hit home as I saw Amin for the last time the day before his flight is that I am not good at saying goodbye.  I think we grabbed some tea for an hour or two, and we parted on a metro platform.  I don't even remember what I said, but it was not particularly apt.  I still don't think I'm very good with parting.  I think it might have started back when I was around 10 or so, and my kindergarten sweetheart Luke was moving to BC.  We actually refused to say goodbye, because we found it too sad.  I think that might have been my idea, and he was good to agree with me.  I have regretted that ever since, because I never got the chance to say goodbye and we have since lost touch.  He was one of my very best friends from childhood, and I never said goodbye.  So on the metro platform, I probably said something about seeing him in January or some such thing.  And as soon as I got on the metro, I felt really strange.  Like maybe in that moment, when I said whatever lame thing I said, it had not been real.  But it was real: he was leaving for a good month.  And I wasn't going to see him.  And I was going to miss him.  But I didn't say any of those things.  I just felt awkward.  It even feels awkward remembering this...

Friday 31 May 2019

Learning Farsi

My next draft post was entitled "Learning Farsi".  Clearly I thought I needed a thematic post in this spot.  I don't see why not.  Though I have only a couple of point form notes here, I think it is a good one to have here, because to me learning Farsi was very important.  I recognized that learning Amin's language was part of learning about his culture and understanding him better and bonding with him more deeply.  I also love languages, so it was something I was excited about.  

So one day early on, I sat down with him with a piece of paper with a list of phrases that I wanted to know how to say.  I knew already how to wish him good night on chats, but I wanted to start incorporating more small things like that.


I brought him the page with English phrasing, leaving lots of space for him to fill in the Farsi.  He helpfully wrote them for me with the Roman alphabet, because I could not read Persian script.  I had "Hello" and "Goodbye" at the top, which I figured were the most basic.  I should've guessed that "Hello" is "salam".  "Goodbye", he explained, "Khoda hafez" means something like "God protect you".  I really like that.  Then I had how to say "How are you?" and "I'm fine".  I had those introductory phrases too "What is your name?" and "Pleased to meet you", because those are often the first things you say in any beginner's language class.  I also think I had the idea that Amin's Mom might like to say Hi on Skype at some point, so I wanted to be able to see "Khosh-halam ke mibinametoon", which is the formal way of saying it.  I love that when you say that you are pleased to meet someone in Farsi, you are literally saying "I am happy (khosh halam) seeing you".  Next was "Thank you", which I laughed to see is "Merci" borrowed from French (or "mamnoon" if you want to be less French-derived, or more formal).

"Flip it over" I told him.  Amin looked overwhelmed, perhaps because he thought it was a lot for me to take in at once, or perhaps because he had just explained a lot of phrases to me (especially between formal and informal forms).  All of this melted away and was replaced by a smile when he saw that there was only one phrase on the other side: I love you.  This was my little dramatic reveal.  In a way, I had done all of this because I wanted to know how to say "I love you" in Farsi.  I did silly and cute things like that when I was younger.  "Doostat daram" he wrote.  And then I learned why he said "I love you so much" in English.  Like in French, when you say "doostat daram", you can say this to a variety of people like family or friends, just like the verb "aimer".  How can you tell the difference between "like" and "love"?  French does not really have a good answer to this question.  In Farsi, though, they add something to help give context, oftentimes the intensifier "kheili" ("a lot", "so much").  When you say "kheili doostat daram", it is "I like you very much", read "I love you".  From then on, I tried to say "kheili doostat daram" as often as "I love you".



Sunday 26 May 2019

November Postscript

The next entry in my drafts is entitled "November Postcript".  It had a couple of notes for things that happened that did not have to do with Amin for the month of November.  One said to talk about this Spanish/Indian guy I met on the bus.  I had included this in the draft, because we spoke for the entire bus ride.  It has happened to me before to have conversations with people in Spanish when they find out I can speak a little, I think because they are so very happy to hear someone speaking their language in the middle of a linguistically-prejudiced province.  This guy, however, was really wanting to get my number and go on a date.  So I wanted to write this here because it took me by surprise.  Yes, even after all my experience with Plenty of Fish I did, and do, find it strange when someone expresses an interest in me.  It is so rare, that I am not expecting it.  Usually I'm just invisible to men, so I was taken aback because I was Noticed.  I remember marveling about it while talking to my sister's boyfriend at the time, and saying something like: what, do I glow now or something?  Are men suddenly noticing me?  Maybe so.  He was an isolated incident, though, so it's hard to say.  I like to think that being with Amin made me glow :)

The next note says "Brunch with Louis".  Yes, indeed, I did go for brunch with him.  I guess this is here because I was wondering a bit if he was interested in me.  A friend had warned me, saying that all French guys from France were just big flirts.  I knew he had a girlfriend, who we talked a lot about during this brunch, so as I suspected, I was very securely his friend.  He talked about how they were trying to get her to emigrate to Quebec too, and what a better quality of life it would be.  He was finishing up his Master's degree in History with a focus on teaching in the Cégep system.  It was nice to catch up with him, and he chuckled when I told him about the blog and how he was in it.  "Je ne savais pas que tu avais une vie sur les blogues!"  Well, no, not really a whole secret blogging life, Louis...  It kind of sounded like I was cute and he needed to humour me.

This is also the month, of course, when I deleted my Plenty of Fish account.  Under this, the note also said "writing last messages".  I guess there were just a couple of people I needed to tell about not looking anymore.  There is nothing really significant that I remember about this, other than the fact that I was feeling very good about Amin and confident that things were going well.  I permanently deleted my profile and settled into my new relationship.

November

The first draft in my box is this one, a post for November 2012 (this is a serious life-time ago).  It seems that I was almost done this entry, so as promised, it is appearing as is, until I run out of text at that the end, where 2019 me will jump back in:


As I stated in a previous post, I would like to move my blog along more swiftly by creating an entry for every month.  This is the one for November, chronicling my dates with Amin over that month. 

On November 2nd, I had my first proper date with him as his girlfriend.  We had seen each other at Halloween (see "First Days" post), but we had been doing school work in the library.  November 2nd was a Friday, which meant that we had time and much less stress.  I met him after his TA session and we went out for supper.  I remember that it was a colder day, so I wanted to wear a sweater.  I wanted to look good too, though, so I picked the purple one with sparkles.  Amin always remarks on what I wear, saying that it is nice and that I am pretty, which was at first more or less easy for me to hear, but which is now so very appreciated.  We went to Juliette et chocolat, somewhere we chocoholics had
surprisingly not yet been.  The place was quaint and very busy.  We had a delicious hot chocolate sample, then asked for a bowl of our own (it was the first time I drank out of a bowl as opposed to a mug or cup and I found that the chocolate cooled much too quickly for my liking).  My sister and her boyfriend asked to come by to see us, so after ordering, we popped ourselves outside Juliette et chocolat to say "Hi".  My sister commutes each week from Ottawa where she goes to University, so she couldn't come inside with her giant bags full of clothes and books.  Normally I would've said that such a meeting didn't make much logical sense, since it was short, she was laden down with her various things and so on.  However, I was glad that she was taking and interest.  She had already met Amin at my birthday, but she wanted to acknowledge him now as my boyfriend.  She wanted to show that he was important in my life and to introduce him to an important person in her life.  If you ask my sister's boyfriend, he will first and foremost say that he is Canadian, however, he is also Indian.  He grew up here, but his parents came over from India, so he has both cultures in his heritage.  I was so glad that Amin got a chance to meet him early on, because I knew it would reassure him.  It would show him that we Carons date guys based on their personality, not their ethnic or cultural background and that our parents are fully supportive of and welcoming of our choice.  I had neglected to mention my sister's boyfriend's background; I wanted Amin to see for himself.  So this one brief moment had much significance.  Amin and I found ourselves soon back at our table and in sweet chocolate bliss.  I ordered the crêpe with strawberries, bananas and semi-sweet chocolate.  He went for the one with all the fruits.  I finished mine and it was just the right portion for me, but alas, Amin could not finish his!  He gazed longingly at his plate, full to bursting and I told him that that's why I made sure there were only two fruits in my dish, otherwise I knew I would not be able to get through it.  The only slightly awkward moment came when it was time to settle the bill.  I asked him how we were going to do that.  He asked me to repeat, so I thought he hadn't heard, but we were having a comprehension problem.  Once he got the gist, though, he insisted on paying for supper.  I was about to learn in the coming months that my negotiating power in this area was almost nil.  I just breathed and tried to go with it, because I knew that it was important to him because of his culture's values and that thus far I had not been allowing him to do what was comfortable.  Like with the other aspects of dating that I was getting used to, I was quiet on the outside and trying to quell the voices or arguments inside.  After supper, we had planned on a movie.  Amin assured me that his office would be empty on a Friday night and that we would be alone, or close to it, to watch this film.  I was nervous because I knew that some of his officemates were Iranian.  During our discussions about public displays of affection, he asked that we be careful in front of his colleagues because he is a private person, but also particularly because Iranians don't date.  He wanted to be secretive not because he did not want to acknowledge me as his girlfriend, but because he wanted time to tell people and certain people would require more time than others.  For example, on October 25th, he came home and told his best friend that we were going out.  His cousin, however, was another matter.  I figured he would probably be one of the last people to find out.  Amin and I walked into his office and there were about five people already in.  My nerves went up a notch as I wondered how these strangers were labelling me: Amin's friend, Amin's girlfriend?  We came in silently, trying not to disrupt their work and sat at Amin's desk.  I pulled the DVD from my purse and he set up two pairs of headphones so we could hear the movie.  I didn't imagine that there would be a way to concentrate on the film with so many other bodies in the room, but it actually worked fairly well.  I had picked a good film for that: Phantom of the Opera.  Two things I didn't tell Amin and still have not confessed are that I watched this very movie with Frédéric and that I really think we should've taken his laptop as I suggested and found a quiet spot outside of his office to watch it (the whole rest of the floor was deserted).  We managed to pull off this odd viewing because Phantom of the Opera is one of those truly magical films.  It completely absorbs you into its world, with the genius of Andrew Lloyd Webber's music, the stunning cinematography, the exquisite costumes, etc.  As soon as Christine began to sing "Think of Me", one of my
favourite pieces in the movie, I felt Amin's hand grab mine, firmly and excitingly clasping it.  I just stared at the screen, trying not to alter my facial expressions.  This was exactly the sort of thing Amin made me promise we would Not do in his office.  I didn't pull my hand away, but I didn't keep his there.  He did let go after a couple of minutes, perhaps recollecting himself.  I couldn't help wondering if anyone had noticed and continued being on my very best behaviour for the duration.  Afterwards, I suggested that I needed some air.  That was polite code for: let's go have some alone time!  We found a bench to sit on and I sang a few bars of "Think of Me" for him, to his delight.  We talked a bit about the movie, but we did more of that in the weeks following this date.  It was the first time we were not strictly "in public" since we had talked about disliking public displays of affection; his office had still been too public.  I felt it was also an opportunity to make good on my will to work on kissing.  Amin was surprised because he had expected me to need more space.  I told him, as I expressed in my entry "My True Love's Kiss" that I felt I really needed to practice rather than abstain to get past this hurdle.  He was so attentive, asking me again and again if I was sure and if I was okay.  I was okay.  Not being terrified was a good start.  We finished the evening with him accompanying me part of the way home and my playing some of Loreena McKennitt's "Tango to Evora" on my penny whistle for him (more on the subject of Loreena later, I promise!).  He was so impressed that I remembered his favourite piece that he was not sure whether he should be posting "Think of Me" on his facebook profile or "Tango to Evora".  I think he ended up with some references to both.  We were both well pleased with how this date went.


November 10th was our next date.  Amin came to pick me up at work.  When I finished up for the day, I caught him out of the corner of my eye, but I had a parent to speak to.  I greeted my tutee's father and gave him the requested feedback about his son's progress in Math.  Afterwards, I went up to Amin and wasn't sure how to greet him.  I gave him a hug and asked if he'd like to see my classroom.  We went quietly down the hallway for a few paces, until we were out of earshot of my coworkers and the students, he said under his breath, "I hate you!"  Startled, I asked him why.  He said he'd overheard me speaking Spanish to the father and wanted to know if there were languages I couldn't speak!  I'm laughing now as I write this, but I took it very seriously at the time.  I explained that my communications in Spanish are quite rudimentary and that he should've heard me hesitating and searching for words.  The upshot of it was that Amin was teasing and was very proud of my linguistic abilities.  Once we got to my room, I said something quiet about "this is where I teach" (or tutor, rather).  He was in a hurry to get going and I was trying to get him onto my wavelength, something that had played out romantically and seamlessly in my mind, but not exactly in reality.  I don't know how I managed to get him to take a couple of more steps inside, but as soon as he was far enough from the door (which has a small window), I kissed him.  He told me later that he found that clever and that it was a very pleasant surprise.  It was one of the first times I initiated and it was definitely our first kiss while standing; he was delighted.  He was so distracted, it took him awhile to realize that he was holding his coat in his hands which he finally let drop onto a desk.  We hadn't planned on staying at my work originally; it kind of developed that way.  We had some loose plans for the date, but we had been having difficulty deciding on exactly what we wanted to do all week.  So we had some ideas and the rest was kind of going with the flow.  The first thing we did was chat a bit.  I was not feeling very well, as is often the case after a few hours of tutoring.  I remember feeling weak and asking if he didn't mind if we stayed at work a bit so I could rest, so I could sit and eat.  Amin had been about to ask me if I'd had lunch and when he heard I hadn't, he was adamant that I should do so at once.  So I pulled out my sandwich and snacks to reenergize.  When it came to it, I didn't want to get moving just yet.  Understanding and agreeable as ever, he was totally fine with just staying quiet on what was supposed to be a "big date".  One thing we had talked about was going to see a movie, but we had not found anything particularly appealing out in theaters.  I'd brought a couple of DVDs of my own in case perhaps watching one became a possibility.  I asked Amin what he thought and he said it was a great idea.  That way we didn't have to go anywhere while I was recuperating.  I let him choose and he went with Kate and Leopold.  Watching the movie on the plastic chairs was not super comfortable, but the television in my classroom worked out really well.  We were interrupted briefly by the security guard who was locking up the rooms.  I never stayed that late and was nervous that she might want to kick us out.  She said that as long as we were finished up by 5:00, that was fine.  I assured her we would be.  The movie ended somewhere around 4:30.  Amin enjoyed it as I expected he would.  We have the same taste in movies and never have anyone that is willing to watch them with us.  We often get the comment: "You're watching That again?!" from others.  It is so nice for both of us to finally have someone to watch movies with.
I was feeling much better at that point, so I proposed we go skating as planned.  Again, Amin needed to be reassured that I was truly up for it.  Once that was settled, we got into the car he had rented especially for our date and headed to L'Atrium le 1000.  He was glad to save me energy by driving, not to mention that having a car made it feel much more like an occasion.  Most of all, he was simply thrilled to be driving with me sitting next to him in the passenger seat.  He said something like, "You do not know how it is to be me driving with such a lovely and precious person beside me in the car."  No, clearly in his incoherent burst of emotion, I could not really know how it felt, other than to say that it made him so very happy.  My sister had talked about "going skating at Bonaventure" as a strictly couples thing.  Not to say that friends don't go skating there, but that oftentimes you find couples on the ice and that it could often be considered a typical dating activity.  Far be it from me to want to do something popular or stereotypically date-ish in Montreal; Amin and I had strictly practical reasons.  I had skates, but he did not.  It is not everywhere that you can go skating and also rent skates, so Bonaventure it was.  I had not set foot on a rink in awhile, so I was curious to see how it would go.  Amin had never skated before; it was his first time.  I was even more curious to see how he would do.  I promised him that I would hold his hand and that he would not fall as long as I was holding his hand.  To my amazement, that is exactly what happened.  We stepped out onto the ice and I helped him through the awkward first turns when you have such a hard time moving more than a tiny bit at a time.  Little by little, he started to take some bigger strides.  His balance was good generally speaking; for the rest, I steadied him.  We were we in danger of falling only a handful of times, when Amin was thrown far off kilter, but each time I managed to pull him back to center.  One of those times, I'm the one that lost my balance and he held me and prevented me from falling.  I could hardly believe that it was his first time on the ice; normally that would've surely have caused both of us to fall.  Later, he observed to me that when I held his hand that I was transferring a lot of energy to him through it.  I had no idea I was doing that.  He said it helped sustain him and keep him upright.  Like any good instructor, I started telling him to let go of my hand and skate on his own.  At that point, that is really the only way you can progress.  Amin didn't like that very much; he would go a few feet and then be looking for me.  I was never far behind or ahead, always watching out for him.  As time wore on, I did manage to get him to go around once on his own.  We skated for quite awhile, taking only a few rests.  I was impressed at my stamina; I had not thought I would last that long.  Amin was too, but then he said that it was because I was skating more slowly with him.  He encouraged me to strike out on my own a couple of times while he rested.  One time in particular, I skated faster than usual because I recognized The Box's song "Closer Together", one that I like.  Amin said he enjoyed watching me "skate for real" and that the way I found the rhythm in the music was beautiful; he said it was like dancing.  He was just so full of compliments as he reflected on our date.  I was telling him the next day that I could proudly say to everyone that my first-time skater did not fall once.  I could still hardly believe it myself.  His reply was: "Hmmm... it seems I found my balance in everything not only my life; I needed you to find balance in everything sweetheart".  See what a sweetheart He is?  The experience had a magical quality for both of us.  By the time we stopped skating, most of the places in the foodcourt had closed.  The pizza place was still open, though, so we grabbed a slice.  I know that Amin had hoped for something more romantic on a "big date", but we once again went with the flow.  It was nearby, we were tired and I definitely needed to eat and would not have been able to wait for dinner service.  I also remember having Orange Crush, something I hadn't had since elementary school!  Right then, that was the coolest thing.  Afterwards, Amin drove me back home.  He stopped the rental a little beside my place.  Concealed by a tree, he leaned over and kissed me before getting out of the car.  I had the impression that was the best kiss of the day; I had the feeling of never wanting it to end.  He then helped me get my work things and my skates out of the trunk and bid me goodnight.

On November 16th, Amin was invited over for supper for the first time.  I was of two minds about this visit.  I was of course happy to have him over, but I was nervous about how meeting my family would go.  Well, to be more accurate, I was nervous about him meeting my Dad.  Generally speaking, Dad says awkward or stupid things, even when there is company.  He has been particularly inhospitable to boyfriends in the past (for example, talking about "taking out his shotgun" just to see if he could freak the hell out of my sister's teenage boyfriends).  Amin told me that he was not concerned about it and asked me not to worry, but the truth is that I was more worried about my not being able to handle it than him not being able to.  He was, however, eager to be prepared for all other aspects of the visit.  He started asking about what my place is like, what our habits are and etc. so that he could get a good idea of what he was walking into.  So I don't think he was without a little anxiety walking in.  I answered all of his questions in the most detail I could to help him feel more confident.  It turns out that all of the stress was for nothing.  Everyone behaved well, including my Dad.  We managed to make a good first impression on Ali and I think people also liked him (though sometimes it is difficult to get a sense of a mostly quiet boyfriend on a first visit!).  We managed to not make a serious dietary faux-pas too (courtesy of my Mom).  My parents made chicken cacciatore, something we hadn't had in awhile.  As I discovered later, technically speaking no Muslim should eat meat that is not halal, but Amin and some of his relatives had decided upon coming to Canada that though they would opt for halal if given the choice, they would not pass up on certain experiences, such as having a meal home-cooked by friends.  We did, however, avoid the bigger problem: Mom made sure we skipped the white wine in the sauce.  Amin explained to me that even when alcohol burns off during cooking, it is not okay for Muslims.  Thank God my Mom pays attention to details and is smart about such things!  He was a bit disconcerted when he found out that I had briefed my family a bit on how to behave, like telling Dad not to offer him alcohol (he has a tendency to push booze on people; you have to refuse at least three times for him to stop asking and if ever he pours for you, he stops about 10-15 seconds AFTER you say "when"!).  Despite my Dad's spur-of-the-moment toast which was awkward but livable (something about how he was happy that Amin makes me happy; his random bursts of emotion often do not feel genuine) and his interrogation was limited to Amin's thesis topic.  Having my sister's boyfriend being present as well was helpful; it showed Amin what it was like to be more comfortable and integrated into the family dynamic.  He really reacted positively too to my Dad's random "welcome to the family" bit in the toast (what, like we were getting married or something?!).  Talking with him later, he expressed to me that it was so nice to be at a family gathering, something he had not experienced in 2 years; I realized in that moment how lonely it can be living in a different country without your family and thus how good it felt to be present and also accepted into our albeit off-beat group.  Besides that, the main general feedback I got from Amin about the evening was that supper was good, dessert (fruit crumble) was divine and
that my family was very nice, particularly my
Mom.  Then there was the evening from our perspective.  When Dad went to pick up the boyfriends, Amin handed me a beautiful bouquet of roses and showed me the box of Lindt chocolates he had picked up for Mom.  I was still not yet fully settled into the mind-frame of being the girlfriend, so I thought the flowers were also for Mom.  The flowers were always for Mom; Mom loved flowers and people brought her flowers.  No one ever brought me flowers.  It took my brain a few minutes to actually compute this.  My flowers.  They were MY flowers!  Not only that: they were Roses!  I was speechless.  I had never felt the need for anyone to get me roses, but now that I had some, I felt it was such a nice gesture.  I got to enjoy them for many days, because they lasted well.  What a wonderful way to start the evening!  When we arrived, Mom greeted us, then left us to our own devices, as planned.  I had asked for us to have the use of the family room.  That was tough to negotiate, since Dad would normally be watching television at that hour.  We were granted that time before supper to have the space to ourselves.  I was really looking forward to sharing more of my music with him, so we had decided to take some time at the piano.  I was nervous at first, as I typically am when I have an audience.  That usually passes fairly quickly, though.  I haven't taken lessons in a long time, but I enjoy playing and really just do it for fun.  I had been unexpectedly inspired to pull out the first piece I had taught myself to play at the age of nine: the easy version of My Heart Will Go On.  I had misplaced the sheet music for the longest time, but it had resurfaced just a few days prior.  Nervous, I didn't sing the first verse, but began at, "Love was when I loved you, One true time I hold to...".  I was looking at my fingers and not at his reaction, but I could feel he had gotten quiet beside me, the sort of hush you get when you want to hear everything perfectly or when you are completely mesmerized by what is before you.  His praise of my playing was warm throughout.  My goal had been to play the songs from Phantom of the Opera for Amin and get him to sing along with me.  He had been nervous at this prospect when I first voiced it shortly after seeing the movie, but it grew on him.  He had looked up lyrics and listened to the music in anticipation.  It took him a little while to chime in, though.  We started with "Think of Me", which was meant to be helpful in that Raoul doesn't have a lot to sing in that piece and would help Amin build up some confidence.  No such thing.  I sang both Christine and Raoul in that one.  Then came "Angel of Music" and I was still singing everyone's part.  I think he came in with me the first time at "Phantom of the Opera".  What I remember is that "All I Ask of You" was sublime.  We did that one twice.  I was so thrilled to have someone to sing with me and Amin enjoyed it a lot too.  We agreed that we should do this often as it was so much fun.       

On November 24th, Amin was invited to a birthday celebration for one of his office mates.  It was at her place and significant others were also invited.  He really wanted me to go with him; in fact, he thought of it as an occasion for us and was not keen on going without me.  I was very flattered at being asked because it meant that he was going to officially introduce me to many of his office-mates.  I was going to be recognized as the girlfriend and slowly begin integrating into his world.    
 



*** And this is where the entry in my drafts trails off.  What I remember from his office mate's party is just a few details here or there.  I know we talked a bit with the office gossip, who Amin said was already pretty sure we were dating and dying to talk about it all over the lab.  We talked probably most with T, Amin's best friend and gym buddy.  By the time I talked to the birthday girl herself, it was close to the time Amin and I were leaving, and she had had a bit to drink by then, so she wanted me to know that it was MY job to teach him French.  Yes, yes, I would, I assured her.

It was my intention when I was first writing this entry to consult my calendar and my messages from Amin to fill in details I didn't remember.  At this point, I realize that it is holding me back and delaying my progress in this blog to be going into that kind of depth.  Looking at my calendar for November of 2012, there are no other dates written in, so I feel safe enough to conclude here for this entry.


Thursday 23 May 2019

I'm Back Part II: What to Expect

Since I'm coming back to this project after a long hiatus, I realized that some things will have to change about my format.  One of the things that held me back, for example, was being stuck in the chronological sequence of events.  I fell behind in going through details in order, which simply prompted me to fall more behind.  I do not want to take away this organization altogether, since my brain really works well sequentially.  Instead, what I propose is to try to accomplish what I was trying to with posts left in my drafts box on Blogger, then see where new posts need to take me.

In going through old events, of course, it makes little sense for me to use my old system of "Hopeful and Hopeless counts".  In fact, I'm not sure they will serve me well for how I'm feeling now either, so this is a structure that is no longer useful.  In going through half-written drafts of old posts, I am going to keep things as they are, and probably not be able to complete them in the same amount of detail.  I'll indicate faithfully when I have a chunk of text that I had written those many years ago, then show a break where I'm jumping back in now, so that you can know the difference.

I figure that themes will be the driving force in the new chapter of my blog, since six years is a lot of life to catch up on (especially in order).  Probably what will make me most Hopeful is to talk about the things that are pertinent to me now.  It will kind of be like when you phone up or text your friend and talk to them about something you are thinking about, or a particular way you are feeling.  I fall down a lot of these rabbit holes, talking about abstract things that are not happening now, but that I am thinking about because of something that did happen.  Hopefully this will become clearer as we navigate this new format together.

Posts will be made on a more regular basis.  Hopefully I can write every week.  Definitely I will no longer let months go by without at least one post.

Till soon!

Wednesday 22 May 2019

Hopeful Romantic is Back

Hi everyone,

I really appreciate the ongoing interest in my blog, especially since I haven't written in such a long time.  I've felt guilty even at the thought of opening Blogger because I have not kept this up to date.  It is heartwarming, though, to see that people still read what I have here and have written me encouraging comments.

I have stayed away too long, which is sad for you, but also for me.  I love to write; it is one of the things that gives me true joy and makes me feel alive.  It is hard to keep up while being a graduate student, but I am committed to writing now, because I am convinced I need it.

Spoilers?  Nope!  I am not one to believe in those.  So for everyone out there wondering, you are going to have to read for yourself about Amin.  I have always said that whether or not you are dating or have found the person of your dreams, this does not remove the need to be hopeful.  I did not intend for my story to end on a high note; that was simply coincidence.  Last time, I was pushing to finish my undergraduate degree, and now I'm doing my PhD, so again, this is going to be a challenge, but I really want to find a way to make it work.  I certainly need a dose of Hope, and perhaps you do too.

See you soon, dear readers :)

Elise