To the Man I Thought I Could Save

In the spring of 2018, I was an impending disaster. When I picture the colour of that season in my mind, I can see sunsets of flamingo, fire, and gold seeping through the blinds of my third story apartment as I listened to the turbulent theme song of the trash cartoon show I watched to keep the ghosts at bay. That spring, I desperately wanted a saviour, but I would not turn out to be the one who needed saving.

One of my regular 3am night walks that April lead me straight into the path of someone who would forever change my life. The first time I saw James* (*name has been changed for privacy), he was smoking a cigarette and as I passed by, he asked to pet my dog. Despite the fact that I had a friend waiting for me in my apartment, I soon enough found myself sitting down in the wicker chair across from him and letting him convince me to have a quick smoke. Two cigarettes later, we were sitting and discussing our favourite literature and the cosmic implications of theism. I tore myself away reluctantly, and we exchanged numbers — phone and apartment. It turned out he was just a few doors down.

Disclaimer: I am the type of person who tends to get fervently caught up in the moment. Passionate, but flighty, I figured that once the magic of our conversation had faded, James would be relegated to the upward-head-nod from a distance crew, and his peripheral…