1/ You’re given that extra mental homework to figure out what they mean, thus yet another way for them to occupy your mind, and
2/ When you misunderstand - aka mess up - they have a reason to be mad at you for not comprehending what they clearly meant.
One night, Boyfriend was over. He was sitting at the head of my dinner table. His chocolate hair hadn’t been cut in more than a month. He hadn’t changed out of his stripey blue work shirt. He was complaining about how I am so clingy and needy and never give him space. That I don’t like it when he sees his friends without me and how suffocating that is.
“That’s not it,” I corrected him, “I am happy for you to see your friends. I WANT you to have your boys’ nights out. I only ask that if the girlfriends are joining, then I’d also like to be included. It’d be nice,”
This infuriated him further, “No! So what if the other girlfriends are there? I’m allowed to see my friends with or without you, as I like it! And if their girlfriends are there, so be it.”
I imagined him holding a fork upright in his fist.
“You’re right,” I said, “I didn’t see it that way before. It’d be nice to be included, but yes of course you have a right to want to hang out with only them.
It’s now Sunday, we’re texting about plans. I haven’t seen him in six days.
Him: I’m meeting Corey for a walk and coffee later.
Me: Ah okay. Are you free before or after that? Do you want to see me? I’d prefer after but any is fine.
Him: Before then, haha.
Me: Haha.
Him: I have to get back to my own place tonight though.
Huh?
I’m too scared to clarify if that’s a yes or no. I didn’t want to seem pushy. He’ll answer me I suppose, and then I’ll know. I was in love and can never get enough of him. I didn’t want any weak wording to sabotage a sunny, romantic Sunday. He had told me he doesn’t like to feel obligated.
But he’d also told me that it’s safe to assume that I’d be seeing him.
But also not get mad if he wanted to stay home or do other things because there was no set plan, so I can’t get upset over plans that were never made or promises that were never broken.
So I just kept quiet and said,
Me: “Well, alright then. Tell them I say Hi!”
Him: “It’s just Corey…”
My apartment on Rivard is not mine. I’m subletting from a couple queer, non-binary couple who’ve moved to the countryside for six months. Just to enjoy the quiet.
The study is connected to the bedroom. I look out at the trees through the window. It’s May, the season in eastern Canada when there’s a silent magic in the air, when a newborn year is opening its eyes for the first time, and a fresh life is full of possibilities. It was almost like an LSD-high: you’re not sure if you’re awake or not. COVID had something eerie about it like that.
Montreal is one of those places where spring feels brief, which means the opportunity for certain wardrobe pieces to make their appearance is very narrow.
The air is just the right temperature so I wear a pair of jeans that have to spend most of the year folded away. I look cute in all black and silver earrings.
I step out into the world. And just as my foot touches the street, my phone rings. It’s Brenda.
She asks, “Are you doing anything?”
“Nope, just going out for a walk! What about you?”
“Can I join you?”
“Of course! I was going to grab a coffee, but maybe a drink in the park?”
“Great! Do you want a White Claw?”
I wasn’t planning on drinking, but the heavenly breezes demanded it. I feel naughty.
“Yes, please! Should we see what Aram’s up to?”
“Sure!”
I’ve chosen my favourite spot in Parc Laurier. Invisible to traffic, washrooms within reach, open space for the sun to play, trees to tell the sun to chill out.
Just as I lay out my blanket, beloved Boyfriend calls.
“Hi. Corey and I are done, I can start heading over to your house.”
“My house? Oh - I’m at Laurier though. Brenda and Aram are on their way.”
Have I blown my only chance at alone-time with my boyfriend this weekend? My mind fast forwarded to the phone call I’d make to Brenda and Aram. My hypothetical self did not feel good telling them I won’t be here. It was so strange. Besides, I didn’t want to be one of those girls, who drops everything for her boyfriend.
“Alright, I’ll head over to the park,” he said. My body is still tense. I made an error in my orchestration.
The temperature is higher now that I’ve stopped moving. I think of my balloon jeans back at home.
I feel the increase in temperature as I pull on my pants. I regret not wearing my balloon jeans. Brenda arrives with her silky hair, smooth skin and blue eyes.
I am secretly jealous of her. She reminds me of how skinny I used to be. I feel like a boy next to her. And with this denim taped on to my legs, I’m feeling even less like my liberated self.
“Do you mind if I take off my pants?” I ask. After all, this is what I moved to Canada for. Undressing in the park. Doing whatever one wants. No one except me cares if my ass is out in its underwear. I turn to Becca, “When Boyfriend gets here, can you not tell him I took my pants off?”
As the words leave my mouth, I sound like one of those women I promised myself I’d never be. I don’t want it to sound like my boyfriend would disapprove. After all, I would only date someone as open-minded as myself, right?
But I also don’t know if he’d be annoyed at any weirdness I’m causing. I just cannot predict his reaction, and I was not about to potentially sabotage our only nice day together.
Arem and Boyfriend eventually join us and we’re having a time under the sun. Boyfriend has brought wine and a falafel wrap for me. See? He’s so thoughtful. He cares about me. He thinks of what I want to eat. The pants are still bugging me so I excuse myself to run back home and change into something more airy. It doesn’t take long, and I feel more myself again.
Aram, Brenda and I are being our silly selves as usual. Aram’s making videos and Boyfriend chuckles awkwardly. Eventually, the Montreal Police show up with their loud noises and vehicles and warnings. It’s time for everyone to go home. Their sirens blare us back to sobriety. Brenda goes back to her place. I would normally invite Aram to hang out but there are two hours left to curfew. I whisper to him if Boyfriend and I can have a few hours to ourselves. I do it with hesitation, because I didn’t want to be one of those women.
When we’re finally alone, I breathe a sigh of relief. I want to throw my arms around him and devour him on my bed. But we can’t.
“You’re so annoying!” he tells me, “Why did you call Brenda and Aram when you know you and I were supposed to meet!”
“I didn’t know!” I protest, “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to,”
“I told you I’d come see you when I’m done with Corey!”
“I’m sorry! I truly didn’t catch that!”
“Yes, you did! You were just trying to get back at me for seeing my friend,”
“Dude, no…Please believe me, I really wasn’t,”
“Yes, you were. Even when you told me to, ‘Say Hi to them,’ you were being passive aggressive. You were bringing up the fact that you weren’t invited to our walk,”
“Darling, I PROMISE you, that’s not what I meant. I just wanted to show my support, if anything. It really meant nothing. I apologise it came out that way. I’ll word it differently next time. Now, can we please just go to bed? We’ve got 90 minutes before you go back home,”
“Yes, we have so little time as is and you went and ruined it by making plans with other people!”
And so it went on for the next hour and a half. I apologised for my bad decisions, I accepted that I’ll try to communicate better next time, and when he left I masturbated out of frustration. The air was stale with loneliness.
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