The flaws of the hometown Hero

My dearest Zachary,

It should come as no surprise, since real life heroes all come with their own unique flaws, that you should have them as well. But blinking dewy eyed like a fawn just birthed and setting her sights upon the world for the first time, her mother licking the remnants of battle from this babe’s fuzzy head, such is the atmosphere of safety that envelops me as I melt into your presence for the first time.

Let me back track just a moment to give you a bit of context on how this all came to be.

I’d met Bob a few weeks earlier on a Tuesday evening. My friend Geoffrey mentioned there was an open mic at the pizza joint a block from his new place so of course we had to check it out. It was a small venue, and the jam host Wolfgang was friendly and welcoming.

There was also never more than a small handful of people in there on Tuesdays, so despite my stage fright, I felt it was a good spot to develop a bit of confidence.

Bob introduced himself to us, and we exchanged a few words, and got to know each other. Before long, we had become fast friends and I was playing there pretty much weekly with my then girlfriend.

He mentioned a few times that we should really come out on a Saturday and meet the guys. He went on and on about this Zak character and how he was no prima donna, but so talented and really down to earth, yada yada yada. I kind of rolled my eyes but something about the name Zak peaked my interest. I shrugged it off, and nodded… “yeah for sure,I’ll come check it out sometime”. It took a bit of convincing as I knew it was likely to be far busier on Saturdays and I wasn’t ready to play for a big crowd. But after a few more attempts from Bob to get us out on a weekend, the stars aligned and we made our way there.

So now, here I am, on this fateful night that I am to meet the love of my life. I sit on my seat, nervous and glancing about anxiously out into the sea of faces, guitar in hand, on stage at Pizza Pob’s, my heart pounding as I anticipate playing for the crowd on a Saturday night. I feel terrified and excited.

As mentioned previously, I have mostly only performed for a small handful of people at any given time. I have had a couple bigger gigs, but playing with a front man, or in a band, so not feeling as much pressure to be in the spotlight. Bob calls you over, yelling your name and waving you over. He's making a big deal about the girl he was telling you about. I feel myself blush as I realize he's referring to me.

You dutifully play your part in placating him and make your way over to the stage. I can’t help but notice the way you move. Confident, assured, you saunter over nonchalant, and ever so masculine.

Your deep steady voice is surprisingly tender and wraps me in comfort. It settles me down immediately. The world fades away and all I see are your warm golden eyes , calm and reassuring. Bright, twinkling and playful, thoughtful, intelligent, they say more than could ever be spoken in that instant. I am drawn equally to your lips, irresistibly sexy, charming, and full of humour and insight. I anticipate what is to emerge from them, what words you might speak.

You ask me if I remember you. I am tongue tied and raise my shoulder and eyebrow quizzically…I’m not sure? I stutter, not sure my response is audible…

You seem amused, smile gently, in response and state matter of factly, “well I remember you”. You check to make sure my guitar is plugged in, adjust my microphone to ensure it’s at the right height and optimal for picking up my voice. I can’t help but wonder what your hands would feel like. They seem so sure, adept at skills beyond the scope of soundcheck. My heart races.

Gazing into your gentle warmth I feel safe for the first time. I had once looked at my parents with such innocence, with such trust before i’d fully awakened to the inevitable reality of their very real, not so insignificant flaws.

A million thoughts crowd my mind all at once, how can this beautiful man remember me? who is he? where did he come from? how is he hosting this jam here, and how did I have the fortune to meet him tonight? Did he fell from the land of the Gods into this little pizza joint? Am I dreaming? Someone pinch me, am I dreaming?

Unconcerned with the plethora of questions swarming behind my eyes, you continue speaking, drawing me back to the present moment, reminding me how we crossed paths at a music recital concert that our music school had put on a few years prior.

“You worked at Bowtown Music right?” I nod, yes, I am still unable to speak as my heart is in my throat and I seem to have gone momentarily mute.

You go on to explain that you worked at the Bowness location, and since I worked in Kensington, there had been little chance of us meeting. But for this event both locations had come together to gather for the concert and you were there running sound for us all.

As you look expectantly at me, I search my memory banks to see if I can recall what you are talking about. I had gotten into a big argument with my bandmates just beforehand, so quite frankly I don’t remember much at all except feeling overwhelmed. I remember feeling anxious, nervous and sad. I wanted to get the performance over and done with so I could leave without bursting into tears. But I vaguely remember seeing you and another guy who I’d yet to meet, your best friend Rob standing to the side of the room as I sang Here comes the Sun.

“Oh yeah!” I finally muster an answer, “I think I do remember you being there”. I'm embarrassed. What a stupid thing to say I'm thinking to myself. He must think I'm so lame. But it doesn't matter.

Here, sitting in front of you at pizza bob’s, I can think of no place I ever want to be again, in your presence, gazing into your eyes that feel like home to me, your voice like a cloak, at once familiar as it is enticing. I feel calm and ecstatic as I surrender to the fateful moment that I fall hopelessly in love.

It is brief, a momentary relief from the deadness that was just seconds ago my heart. I will return to it again and again, revisiting its impact for many years to come. But life is cruel in its immediacy, and I am called back to the present moment. It comes rushing in.

My reprieve is broken in a hurry by reality, as all is ready to go and I have a performance ahead of me. I glance somewhat guiltily, over at my then partner standing in the audience cheering me on, who I’d all but forgotten, as the room comes back into focus.

“There she be, you’re all set” you say with a final smile, and you leave me to it. The performance goes over well enough I think. I am more focused on this new feeling of aliveness pulsing through my veins than I am in performing.

The rest of the night I am fixated on your every move, anywhere you are so are my eyes. They have no choice but to follow you. I have no control over myself, you are a magnet, and my eyes are it’s target.

I am aware of the finest details, the flex of your jaw, the outline of your features, I can almost feel the itch before you reach over your shoulder to scratch yourself. It’s a bizarre phenomenon. I cannot shake the feeling that we have somehow become one. But we’ve only just met, and this is all registered somewhat subconsciously.

When you jump on the drum kit, I am sure my jaw has dropped open on the table and drool collects in a pool all around me. Of course, this doesn’t really happen, but I am blown away by the sheer magnitude of your perfect sense of rhythm.

I was right about your touch. I don’t have to feel your hands to know the delicacy with which I will be handled. You know just how hard, and how soft to punctuate each beat. You actually listen, and play around the instruments, alongside the instruments, carrying the groove, instead of banging your way over them. It’s the first time I’ve ever truly admired the function of drums in music. I can feel your confidence, I can feel your life force, I can feel your heartbeat. I don’t know how this is possible but it is what I am experiencing.

Truthfully until this evening, I’ve never noticed, much less cared about drums, and from then on to present day, every song I hear, I am listening for the drum beat, I assess and compare their skill to yours, and I feel you as though you are in the room with me, whether we are together or not.

Our next few months are nothing short of amazing as we get to know each other. You can play every instrument, you are a wizard. You make it all look effortless and easy. Your talent and passion awakens me in ways I can't describe. I feel within, all the potential I have neglected within myself and know I have my work cut out for me if I am to be the kind of partner I want to be for you.

Hard to believe almost 7 years have passed since that fateful day. I’ve never told you the sheer impact that day had on my life, how it changed the trajectory of my path, and how it felt like you reached your hand into my chest to caress my heart and set it to beating again.

I have tried to show you the ways in which you’ve changed and awakened me, and will continue doing so, as it has become my deepest purpose. Try as I might, I can’t tell you how alive and passionate I feel, the only way is to show you. For what is life unless one is in love?

Every song I write is for you, every painting inspired by you, every act is one of love. It has become ritualistic, this way of being. I can’t help it. I feel the pulse of you, in every object, in every surrounding space. Everything reminds me of you, of us. Yes you can call me happily obsessed. It is intense and strange and at times difficult to be so consumed by this sacred thing called love.

It’s Valentine’s day as I write this letter. I wake up happy, revelling in the bliss of love and eager for the day ahead. I get dolled up in anticipation of riding that feeling through to the end of the day so I put on a beautiful dress, do my makeup, put on my knee high boots and set off to work.

As my shift comes to a close and my last piano student’s reminiscent Fur Elise attempts cease their resounding repetitive loop in my head, my heart immediately drifts to us, and just as quickly sinks as I assess that I am on my own, and register that I’ll be leaving alone.

It’s been over three years since we parted ways and not a single day goes by that I don’t wake with you as my first thought and fall asleep with you as my last. Forget living rent free in my mind, you have free access to my soul, body, heart, and every aspect of my being. In truth I’d have it no other way.

I allow my mind to wander down for the millionth time, its usual path, wondering what you might be doing on this day and if you might be thinking of me as well. I can’t help but hope I might get a surprise visit from you.

I know Valentine’s isn’t really a big deal. It’s just a day in the calendar of eternity. True love doesn’t count days, it celebrates and honours moments. We have special moments anytime we decide and I am well aware of my part in this equation, so I quickly adjust my mood, and bring myself to the tempo of love ( i.e. go with the flow).

So… here I am, dolled up at Mugs pub listening to live music. Open mic life. It’s fitting that I should write this letter to you here, on this day dedicated to love. So much has happened since I saw you last.

I feel a mix of emotions. It’s a salad really. The one that presents itself on top of the others is sad. I haven’t felt quite myself since our paths diverged and we went on separate journeys to find ourselves. But I keep my head up as I trust when we find ourselves, we’ll run smack dab into each other again.

Maybe that’s the trouble is I keep going to places I would have visited with you in the past. Of course you won’t be here, you’re not the same person. I am not even suppose to be looking for you. I’m on the journey for me, not you. So it’s funny and perplexing, this silly little dance, this paradox and riddle of where I ought to be and where I actually find myself.

I have stopped begging for you back and just realized that gone or not, you’re in my heart and in my head to stay, and I just have to accept that. I know that when I spend too much energy focused on it, your absence, your lack of presence in my life actually becomes so dominant that you might as well have eaten me whole.

So instead, the goal is to put it down. Even just for a minute. So I can breathe. So I can check in and see that in fact yes, I do still have a pulse, and surprise, I can still walk and speak, and write, and dream, and hope and cry and laugh.

I can dance and sing and play, I can read, I can watch movies, I can marvel at a sunset. All the things I did before you entered my life, while you were in my life and after you exited my life.

I will never be completely ok or have full closure about your choice to be in a life that excludes our togetherness, but I see clearly that my projection has been unhealthy, the need I have for you smothering, and the lack of self love evident when I am hopelessly scrolling to see if I’ve received a message or text, or phone call, or to check and see if you might have made a comment on a video.

Something. Anything to prove to me that our relationship or what once was has a semblance of pulse.

Again, it is impetus to come back into my own experience, the now, the present moment, even if it is simply to acknowledge that “I feel pain”, or “I feel sad”, or “I feel disconnected”, “I feel needy”. “I feel insecure”. The point is that there is this willingness and ability to check in and see how I’m doing. How I’m really doing. And to attend to that with immediacy.

All the doom-scrolling, wishing and hoping in the world won’t bring you back, and it is an obvious attempt at escaping these feelings of emptiness I have been left to deal with.

All the questions, "but why did he leave? why won’t he love me? Why doesn’t he forgive me? How come he won’t give this another chance? What can I do? How can I fix this?", shows me the obsessive compulsive clinging, the hanging with dear life onto shreds of the past over which I never had control of in the first place.

It is my grappling with grief, the inability to embrace change, the fear of what is not, for what is still yet to be that has me trembling and terrified and screaming horror in the dark.

But I am no stranger to discomfort. Not anymore. I can see the silver lining and I participate with eagerness. The gift in your absence is that I have ample time to get acquainted with myself again.

As I piece together all that has come apart, sifting through the rubble of what once was and what’s worth keeping, what remnants are best left behind and what parts I’ve yet to find, I appreciate what image I protect, and project as I do this sorting.

It’s nice stepping outside of myself for a change. To see myself writing, putting myself out into new threads of opportunity, challenging myself to explore passions and hobbies.

So rather than play music as I usually do, I am here composing a letter to process how I’m feeling, and entering a writing contest. Two stones am i right?

The contest prompts us to write to someone who has impacted our journey. Someone who has been a mentor and a hero to us.

I feel I really have a good shot at winning this, not because I am the best writer, but because of the impact you’ve had in making a difference in my life’s journey. The inspiration it’s brought me, and is bound to bring the world, as I am reborn into all that I’d ever hoped I could be. I can think of no person who has had more impact than you.

Your mentorship is irreplaceable. I learn everything I need to about myself in this connection with you. All of my flaws, are the same as you have in you, and all the love I am needing to feel for myself is now possible because I have learned to open my heart to you even when I feel scared or self-protective.

Before you came into my life I had given up. On life, on myself, on God, on Love. I was co-dependent, in a dead-end relationship with my then alcoholic girlfriend.

I saw no way out of my situation and had resigned myself to just bear with it and survive. I was enmeshed in this connection, desperate to escape. I knew I wasn’t a lesbian, and we’d actually been fighting about it in recent times. She was desperate that I not leave her, god forbid it be for a man. I had recently awakened to the truth that I was in fact attracted to men just a few months before you entered my life.

I am completely serious when I say that when we met I had the shock of my life. It was like running straight into God himself and what I heard was “I am not done with you yet”. I might as well have been hit with lightening. You read about these near death experiences where people wake up to their potential and come back fully aligned to their purpose. It’s so sudden and jarring.

Well, our encounter, is nothing short of life altering and is doing just that. Aligning my soul with purpose and passion and reconnecting me to my inner drive.

It is what I assume a near death experience would be like, only it is happening in slow motion. It’s like my life flashing before my eyes, but it’s taken a few years of slowly processing all the grief and the entire lifetime of junk I’ve been carrying around instead of happening quickly over a few seconds. Your coming into my life brought with it, this new sense of possibility and freedom I’d been longing for all my life.

So, on the other side of this feeling of being trapped, I couldn’t lie to myself for another second. I couldn’t pretend to be in love with someone, when I knew the truth of what it could actually be if i were to allow myself to go into the unknown wilderness of my heart, with someone I did actually love.

I felt empowered. I was walking on sunshine, and within 5 months I’d left Ashley. Those five months were hell, I could not get her to detach, and she did everything in the book to manipulate my emotions into staying. I felt awful. But I knew there was no alternative. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us to stay out of pity.

The highlight and saving grace in those months was that you and I were getting to know each other, and I was more and more certain I was capable of freeing myself.

Finally it was done. Now to go where? Into life, into the journey, into every experience. I knew it didn’t matter, I didn’t care what was to come, so long as we would face it together.

And in those early days, that is exactly what we did. We jumped into adventures heart first. I had no qualms about leaving my old life behind and going all in with you.

For a few months of our time together I thought of little else but how alive I felt and how on fire I was to the possibility of a fulfilling and meaningful existence. Days bled into nights and it felt like we were inseparable. I couldn’t get enough of us.

It was everything I needed to blow off years of pent up stagnancy. We played music and dance and laughed and made new friends. I felt like the world was my oyster and I was on the top of the highest peak with my best friend.

But we got carried away. We drank too much, and partied too hard. I struggled to communicate. Before long I began to feel uneasy and anxious. I couldn’t seem to interest you in a long term commitment and I felt confused as to why. For me it was so clear. Meet the love of your life, spend life with said person.

I was finally allowing myself to feel all the possibilities I’d held at bay, all the hopes and dreams I’d killed by settling for what was comfortable. I imagined us ruling the music scene, hitting the road, traveling as a duo together, forming a band of our own, playing gigs, and eventually getting married, settling down and having a family. I had it all vaguely mapped out.

But in a polarized relationship with a man, this is your role, not mine. All my planning and seeing into the future is what drove a wedge between us. You began pulling away, asking for space, making it clear we were not exclusive, or in a relationship whatsoever. You were seeing multiple women which you were upfront about, all along, I just thought we’d naturally progress into something more.

But you threw a huge wrench at me when you decided we were going to stop being intimate all together. My heart broke. We were on two different pages. Our connection while exhilarating and full of electricity and potential, lacked the stability and safety I had known being in a committed relationship.

I was coming to realize that I didn’t know the first thing about being with a man. I’d only had relationships with women prior to our meeting.

Communicating with a woman is very different than with a man. It wasn’t strange for my girlfriend and I to have emotional outbursts at each other and then make up. They’re also, not joking when they say that a lesbian brings a u-haul to the first date. My girlfriend and I moved into a committed relationship and began living together organically and within a matter of weeks of being intimate with each other.

Not so with a man. I was in well over my head.

Before too long, cracks in the foundation were showing up. The flaws in my hero emerged. You became short with me, impatient, annoyed at my perceived clinginess. I could see the disinterest, distain and lack of respect seeping in to stain our perfect love. I saw sides of you that brought up my deepest fears of abandonment. I felt rejected and down trodden and ashamed.

Our final straw broke and in that moment I fled from my heart. You left me. My greatest fear had become reality and it had only taken a couple of years. I slammed the doors of my heart shut and fled, swearing to myself I’d never open my heart like that again.

To your credit I did have some serious growing up to do, and much to learn about myself and what I want to bring into our connection. I see now of course, in retrospect that everything that happened was my own projection of insecurity. That I lacked the understanding of dynamics between us to form a lasting bond and that it all happened the way it had to.

Sadly, this is no modern fairy tale, but in a happy twist, I am the author of my story, so I am writing in a happy ending in for myself.

Whether you know it or not, your heart is on every page of my story. When I trace my memories back to early childhood, I see you there, the impression of you is with me as I cry alone in my room, every time I feel mis-understood. Especially when I listen to angsty emo tunes, and depressing music to ease my troubles.

You are as close to me as my own flesh, you are with me in every prayer I make to the Divine. Before I knew you, I prayed to find you. Since fate was so kind as to bring us together in the first place, and then part us once more, I continue to pray that in time we make our way back to one another, this time from the understanding that wounded heroes are still heroes nonetheless and that we can grow into the best versions of ourselves because of this incredible love.

I prayed for the muse, I prayed for a lover, never in my wildest imaginings did I see getting it all in one magical package that is you. I hit the jackpot. Or should I say the Zak Pot?

In the end, it really doesn’t matter where you or I wind up, or if we make our way back to each other. It's just a downright miracle we found each other in the first place.

I used to pray for that exclusively, all the time. It’s not that I don’t want it anymore. I grow into it more and more everyday so of course I do. But I know the meaning of surrender and letting go now. So while I still include that possibility in my prayers, I more broadly pray that what is meant for us will find us, what is best for us will happen, and that if this immense love is as vast and powerful as I sense it to be, that we will be brought into the most rewarding chapter of our lives and that will inevitably involve the both of us.

Just know that the two years we spent together were the most incredibly eye opening years of my entire life. I remember every second like it just happened yesterday. Your words, always so simply put, yet precisely what I need to hear in any given circumstance.

“Do it for you” and “believe in yourself”. So simple, yet profound. In those two short teachings you planted in my soul, I am awakened to my life’s purpose. I know I have no choice but to do for myself what I am purposed for. I have no choice but to believe in myself. You show me with your absence, when you leave me to get to it, that I have no choice but to go myself.

It is now the day after Valentine’s as I put the finishing touches on this letter. This afternoon, as I comb the wooded pathways behind my home, the familiar winding dirt, crisscrossing and taking my legs in all manner of directions, I can’t help but draw the parallel that it might just mirror the pathways of my heart.

See, when you left, I abandoned my heart as well. I couldn’t bear to be in there and fled for the hills of the mind.

But today, as I connect with the earth and trees I stop by old porcupine tree. It resembles a porcupine with jagged broken branches and a wide base, and rumour has it a porcupine frequently inhabits the tree. I’ve yet to see it with my own eyes but I rested with the tree and got an image of you deep in the glow of my heart.

I could well imagine myself re-entering my heart, and traveling those pathways back to the centre of my heart, and there you would be waiting patiently stoking the embers of the fire you started so long ago. This journey of love is forever and it’s my heart that has to be held with reverence and care.

So I begin this new chapter, knowing it is far from over, that I am beginning anew, light as a feather, with a glow in my chest and a bounce in my step, eager for what comes next ,and ever so grateful that you have awakened me to love, to passion, and to the healing my soul has been needing.

I love you.

We are Eternal,

Tiffiny