We haven’t spo­ken in months.

I still think about her, but isn’t that how it usu­ally goes? You think about the last girl­friend until the next one comes along, ad infini­tum.

Sometimes I think about the oppor­tu­ni­ties I’ve missed with her. Never hav­ing a chance to attend one of her par­ties, a mys­te­ri­ous, eso­teric rit­ual that both fright­ened and excited me when­ever I heard about it. Never get­ting to use the beau­ti­ful rope she bought before she left for the final, extended break. Never being able to leave her bound and blind­folded in her own closet, the secret lit­tle fan­tasy we both shared. All the things that I took my time with, think­ing I’d have a chance even­tu­ally, expect­ing the rela­tion­ship to work.

But even­tu­ally never came.

Sometimes I have to remind myself how much she hurt me. On some days it’s eas­ier than oth­ers. How much I changed and grew and was brave for her, only to have her con­stantly put me down. I tried my best, did the most I could, but it was never enough. Her com­plete lack of faith was more than dis­cour­ag­ing, it was insulting.

Yet she was the girl­friend I respected the most, the only one I could talk to about any­thing with­out being afraid of los­ing her in sub­ject mat­ter. The girl­friend who taught me the most, who played an inte­gral part in giv­ing me the sense of strength and respon­si­bil­ity I feel today. I’m still try­ing to fig­ure out if it was all worth it, whether I’d learn these thing even­tu­ally, or whether the expe­ri­ence was unique. I sus­pect I’ll find out in time.

It’s sup­posed to be sunny tomor­row. The begin­ning of fall, car­ry­ing the tran­si­tional tem­per­a­tures of sum­mer, is always pleas­antly cool. We’ll be strolling along the stores and restau­rants of Elgin, and I’ll be tak­ing my video cam­era in hopes of get­ting some footage of the sand­bag angels at the Confederation Park.