It’s fucking weird right now. We went from like what, 4 degrees Celcius to a solid 21 in a few hours. The warm breeze dumped more carnage on our doorstep than a crowd surf at a Metallica concert.
Just because I’m Canadian doesn’t mean I don’t feel what you feel tonight. We feel it. It’s like watching my sister in a hospital bed, connected to a labyrinth of wires keeping her alive, and the only thing I have control over is the wrinkle in my American dollar bill; those things never work in the change machines, and I need a snack more than anything. Over and over, I’ll press the heel of my palm into its face, willing it to convert rhyme into reason.
I’ve been through a lot of trauma in my nearly 39 years of life, and whenever I stand at the crossroads of Holy Shit and What Now, I look around for love. Because the only way that we will be able to move forward, no matter which road we take, is if we’ve got someone beside us.
I’m beside you.