I’m nearing the end of my second week of being off work. Technically I was laid off, so I’m patiently awaiting EI and a phone call for a new assignment. I’ve cleaned. A lot. And I’ve read, drawn, dusted off my synthesizer, taken my bike in for a tune-up, walked the dog, done several dump/salvation army runs, and reorganized my kitchen. And now, I’m bored.
So today I decided to get out of the house. After waking at 7am and then lounging in bed til 10:30am (so decadent!) I got up, got dressed, and packed the dog in the car. We did another salvation army run and then I took the mutt for a walk around a lake. And then I took the long way home, through the countryside. As I was driving and the dog was panting furiously in my ear, slobber running down my shoulder, I started thinking about losing contact with people.
Years and years ago, when I lived in a different country, I made a very good friend. I was hopelessly in love with him, and he knew it, and he was very sweet about letting me down without letting on that he knew (I was betrayed by an errant note passed in class. The gossip got her hands on it and then everybody in the entire 9th grade class knew I thought he had a “mighty sweet butt.” I guess class notes were kind of like the original text messages, hey?). Anyway, after a year I moved to Canada and we stayed in touch via the email. Through the years our friendship grew into best friendship, and then sort of blossomed into a very sweet, often dark, kind of twisted soulmate love, the kind that you can only have when you’re 19. Eventually I decided to go and visit. I went for 2 weeks over a summer and stayed with him and his college roommates, and it was a lot of fun, except for the part where I realized that I wasn’t actually as madly in love with him as I had originally thought. He drank a lot, and he was kind of sickly, and very broody a lot of the time. With his words it was intense and romantic; with his actions it was kind of irritating. I was also seeing another boy at the time, one who ended up breaking my heart (twice no less) but whom I was very much infatuated with. Anyway, the Very Good Friend made his move and I went along with it the first time, and then sort of tried to avoid it. On the last night I was there they threw a party, and I remember sitting in the bathtub being absolutely hammered, with him sitting on the toilet next to me asking me if I saw him in my life at all. And because I was oh so drunk I worded my response incredibly poorly, and a month after I got home he stopped talking to me. I broke his heart, and I didn’t even mean to, and it cost me the closest friend I had ever had. I still think about him all the time. A while ago I did some research and googled him, and sent letters out to every address I could find attached to his name. I got one response from someone telling me I had the wrong person. And as shitty as that story is, it came from us falling in love not with each other, but with each others’ words.
A couple of years ago I joined an online anxiety forum, and started emailing with someone in the area. We had a lot of similar symptoms for our panic attacks, and it turned out that we had very similar taste in music as well. Our communication was very sporadic, and there would be months between emails sometimes. It was always friendly, encouraging, engaging. Nothing romantic, no flirting. We hadn’t spoken in a while and a few months ago I sent him an email telling him I was going to be spending some time up near his neighbourhood at my mom’s, and he should let me know when his band’s playing because I’ll finally come and check them out. He asked why I was going to be there, I told him about the separation, he expressed his regrets and asked how my anxiety was about it, I thanked him and told him I was managing it just fine. And then two days later he declared his intentions. He had always had a thing for me and hadn’t said anything out of respect for my marriage but now he had to let me know. And then he let me know again. And again. Through a series of drunk texts. I had to tell him while it was very flattering and incredibly sweet, I’m still married and not looking and besides, he couldn’t say “without a doubt” that I was the one for him because the fact of the matter is we’ve never met in real life. And for the love of god, stop texting me at 2 in the morning. And now I’ve had to stop talking to him, which bums me out because he’s a really nice guy. I guess my words were just too much for him.
Anyway, the point of this ridiculous and aimless diatribe is this:
This is a book I remember reading in elementary school. It’s also a book that’s made a profound impact on my life. If you’ve never had the pleasure of being exposed to it, Griffin & Sabine is the first book in a trilogy that’s a romantic (gasp, I know) mystery portrayed through postcards and letters. This isn’t going to be a book review, so I’m not going to bother running down the gripping plot for you, I’m just going to show you what the inside of the book looks like.
And what some of the artwork in the book looks like.
And tell you that you should go and find it and read it and buy it and love it. You’re welcome.
I’ve managed to collect all three books in the series over the years, and it’s definitely one of my proudest displays on my bookshelf. It’s trite but words really are so powerful. It’s amazing how much you can evoke from a person through a few paragraphs. I’ve already fallen for several writers I’ve read on this grand WordPressosphere based purely on the images they’ve created for me with their writing.
That’s it. No snappy ending to tie this one together.