When Christine and I were talking about becoming roommates and looking for a 3rd person to live with us, her brother had just recently left his girlfriend and was looking for a new place to stay. We talked about having him live with us and of course, I was a little worried about how it would be to live with a brother and sister. Was I going to feel like a 3rd wheel in my own home? Were they constantly going to "gang up" on me during house arguments? Did I really want to move in with somebody I knew enough for it to be awkward if it didn't work out, but not well enough to be sure things were going to work.

Turns out, David and I get along really well. We have these long philosophical conversations about life, love and our goals, our pain, our struggles, etc. Everything has worked out rather well so far. Something has come out of living with roommates who are brother and sister. All my thoughts and doubts about living with siblings, not once did I think about how seeing their interaction as siblings and answering the phone when their parents call would open my eyes to something unfamiliar. I know that we all have different life experiences, we all interact differently with our friends and family, etc. But living with Christine and David has in a way, thrown in my face what my family life was missing. A brother asking for his sister to call him when she flies back home from vacation to make sure everything is OK. A mom and dad calling on a regular basis to talk with their kids, making plans to get together during the week. The family hugging each other when saying hello and goodbye, saying "I love you".

All these little things that most people do without thinking, without realizing that they even do it probably comes as second nature to most, but when I see this, I notice it. Something goes off in my brain and registers these actions and it makes me realize what I didn't have and don't have. I don't have somebody checking on me to see how I'm doing. Nobody says those 3 magic words to me at the end of a phone conversation. My brother never asked how I was or said goodnight to me or wished me luck on anything. To be honest, I don't know how I feel about it. Some days, I just want to curl up and wrap myself up in blankets and not necessarily cry, but just let tears stroll down my cheeks. Other days, it just all feels so foreign and strange to see a mother hugging her daughter that I just feel nothing at all. Some times, I want to cut because I'm angry and want to cry but I'm numb at the same time and I just want to let it out. I feel as though I'm hovering over it all and I need to come down. I need to feel something.

There are days where I'm lucky enough to have either S or G over. S will spend the night and just having a body next to mine makes me sleep better. When he comes over, knowing that he's not leaving until the morning brings a sense of comfort over me, that at least for one night, for 8 hours, I'm not alone.

As for G, it's not just his arms around me that make his presence comforting. It's how he squeezes me closer to him, as though I were about to disappear and he has to hold on to me as tight as he could to make sure I don't go anywhere. It feels as though he needs me as much as I need him at that moment.

I know these 2 are just fillers. They're filling up a void in my life and perhaps I'm filling up a void in theirs. But how is one suppose to complete themselves when there are so many gaps in their life?

With no idea where to begin, I guess it’s best to start with the most recent events. Thursday, at 3:30 am an ambulance came to get me at home. I had been vomiting for hours and unable to keep even liquids down, I quickly became dehydrated. I live alone, no friends and family in proximity, I panicked. Actually, it was when I called the local info health line that I started to panic. The idiot on the other end told me it was highly possible that I had kidney failure and scared me into calling 9-1-1. So I went to the hospital for a few hours then got fed up of being there so I left. Unfortunately, I usually have to be at work at 6am Thursday mornings and quite evidently, I wasn’t there to open the gym. I woke up in my apartment around 12 feeling as though I’d been hit by a car. I drank water and moments later, felt a sharp jabbing pain in my stomach, but I kept it down, woohoo! After a couple hours of just lying around and doing absolutely nothing, the boredom got to me and for some reason I decided I should call up Dominic Cifarelli for his interview. Professionally, not that great an idea, but I needed something to do. With the interview done, and having left him with a bad impression of me (hopefully the cure to that little mistake will be the article), I started writing and damn did that feel good!

Now you maybe asking yourselves, “article?” that’s right I now write more than just blogs. I’ve started writing for the music section of a local University paper. My first major article is on Dominic Cifarelli and his current project The Chronicles of Israfel.

Work and projects aside, things are going great! I’ve been spending time with some family, my cousins and godparents. Going back to Christmas, I spent Christmas Eve at my best friend Marc’s house with his family. The next day, I went over to my godfather/uncle’s and spent the day with his in laws and my cousins. His niece has been learning the piano and put on a xmas show for us. My uncle was trying to sing along without knowing most of the words (or how to sing on key for that matter). We had a good laugh at his expense.

The 26^th, instead of checking out the sales, I was at my godmother/aunt’s with my cousins. We spent the earlier part of the day making a huge brunch like breakfast, and then helped my aunt prep her house for weeks of painting and remodelling. That evening, my aunt went and got my dog from the ol’sperm and egg. As happy as I was to see my poochy, I was sad to see how obese she has gotten due to negligence. A healthy weight for my dog is no more than 20lbs, now she must weigh close 40. I had her for a good week, and a small pang of emptiness hit me when she had to go back

I got to see my brother Anthony during the holidays as well, right before he left for a month, going to Boston and Las Vegas (lucky bastard). I’ve been spending a ridiculous amount of time with Marc. The 28^th of January was his 26^th birthday. His friend, signer Lily Frost, scheduled a show here in Montreal.

More to come in the next post!

March 20 - April 18