If it were the last night on earth everyone would be with someone else…………………..

A common sentiment among single Torontonian women would to some extent reflect the title of this short story along with ‘When will it be my turn?’ and ‘Who is out there for me?’ A few years ago having witnessed these dismaying sentences of feminine weakness fall out of my mouth I decided that, until I found Mr. Right, I would indulge in the affections and attentions of x4 special men in my life all whom had been vying for my attention. I would play the game like our Metro sexual human opposites do, just minus the actual sex. I gleaned relatively quickly that four quarters do not actually make a whole one.

1. Miles

Miles was so endearing and spoke his mind poignantly. Usually adorned with combats and a T shirt that speaks ,he was rough and ready, 40 plus and longing for a condo in Never-land. Dark and seductive he was a little shorter than average with a creative computer geek inside waiting for him to declare they were actually joining a band that combined The Rolling Stones and Lincoln Park. British and arrogant, when he looked at me I wanted to hold him forever and not let the world hurt him anymore, which was totally not the message he wanted Joe Public to receive. Cognizant that his prickles would pierce straight through my skin if the wind blew the wrong way I waited for his lead to set up ever increasing meetings.

Miles was involved in a long-term, more off than on relationship, his hunger for female company was hence not satisfied; he needed to hunt outside the boundaries. My male counterpart and I had a similar UK background, shared the same taste in music, fashion and stupidity. We had fun and cared for each other but high days and Holidays were off limits to me and a phone call didn’t cut it. This unfortunate lack of substance made it so much easier to be involved with the other 3.

2. Damien

Damien & I have known each other for 8 years, married for the umpteenth time he still doesn’t understand the whole commitment thing hence I became the new carrot that kept him occupied. I was aware that he should never reach me for I would then be hidden away under the mash potato pile and discarded. Standing well above average height, his ease of intelligent conversation was a constant stimulation. A natural attraction between us could be picked up by penguins at the North Pole. Despite issues with scheduling Damien and I managed to spend many scintillating evenings accompanied by our friends Pinot and Noir. I would not want to loose him from my life but neither did ‘wife most recent’ and that was already written.

3. Andrew

Andrew was and is still my most serious relationship thus far along the road. We made so many mistakes whilst growing up together that it is impossible we be matched again, in defiance of that fact that I will always love him. Equally unable to let go him-self, I saw my handsome twin to Hugh Grant weekly in this chapter. He was the support wall holding up my life but when the midnight bells tolled or morning light started to threaten all that remained was a glass Nike.

4. Fernando

The Latin cliché’s were written after a meeting with such a man. To say this relationship was volatile was akin to asking if it might rain in April! I have not laughed, loved, cried or hurt so much during any other individual encounter.

Contrary to the situational explanation given upon our first meeting, Fernando had a loving wife and 2 adorable children. I had understood from cleverly masterminded and indirect communication that he was in the process of divorcing a baron Dragon who might in-fact eat children for breakfast.

Passion, sensuality, tenderness and generosity glued Fernando’s bones but the daggers of jealousy and the cunning of a master criminal tempered these qualities. The olive skinned fox loved and hated me with the strength of ten wrestlers. I could not be the only ‘other’ as Fernando’s heart was not beating until it was stretched out and pinned a number of times. The thrill of a smooth man who could dance and tutor me on the beauty of his language kept me returning in ignorant bliss. For him the thrill of the chase made me the favorite fruit of the season.

At this time in my life my cell was constantly jumping but my life was full of rain checks and broken promises. I took comfort naturally in numbers, I had more than one person to love, desire and walk that security beat for me!

So it was, that one-day that year a real helping hand was needed. I was stuck in the US during ‘SARS’ with food poisoning and a max'd credit card. I could not even make it to the hotel lobby without fainting. The inconceivable feat would be trying to be inconspicuous at the airport and subsequently witnessing the masses of neurotic flyers back up against the wall to let me pass upon noticing a single bead of sweat on my pure white brow. The next hurdle would be to fool the dreaded SARS robot into the belief that I had a cool head . As appealing as these thoughts were the likelihood was that I would probably end up actually contracting the disease in quarantine. Feeling fortunate that I had so many caring parties to assist I started to call for support. My safety net, to my dismay, began to unravel shrinking with each absurd to plain self-serving excuse of pending absence. The sobs of disbelief and loneliness would not leave me as I rescheduled my flight for the next week and extended my line of credit from my fever soaked bed with much discomfort and difficulty.

At this point I got the crystal reward for realization. I had built my house with a revolving door jet-powered by false hopes. Although perfect from the outside, my residence was uninhabitable, with empty rooms and unpainted ceilings. It crossed my troubled mind that my cell might have eaten the same infected food as I because it wasn’t singing at all but the silence made room for me to actually wonder how I had arrived at this echoing point. Sanity spoke to me then, I was compelled to close every door and hope like hell that a window opened far enough for me to maneuver myself out. Only then could the Oyster of life consider offering a precious and honest pearl to be worn proudly on a necklace marked ‘Trinity’ and only Trinity.

Life is always teaching but we have to be ready to listen. Now, if tonight was the last night on earth everyone would still be with someone else but I would be OK with it. …………..Trinity.

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