Tag: Endings

Chapter Fifty-Two – 3 of Swords

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Memoir, Someone Else’s Life, Tarot

When I arrived at Francis’ office, he wasn’t there.

He always waited for me to leave work. I didn’t understand why he wouldn’t be at work. I found a payphone and called his number, but no one picked up. I called Stacey and Max’s number and Stacey picked up almost right away.

“Stacey, is something wrong? I went to meet Francis at the office, and he wasn’t there.”

She took in a deep breath. “Oh, Jamieson. Francis is here.”

“He’s at home?” I was shocked. I couldn’t comprehend why he would have gone home without me. My mind knew that we always went home together.

“You better come here, Jamieson.” She let out another long breath. “You aren’t going to like what he has to say to you. I’m sorry, Jamieson, I really am.”

I hung up and hopped on the first bus I knew that would take me to Francis’ apartment building. I sat on the bus clutching my backpack and holding tightly to it. I didn’t like the worry that I heard in her voice and the sad tone that Stacey spoke to me with. It was as if something terrible had happened or someone had died. If I closed my eyes, I could hear her voice in my mind, and it was almost like a warning of sorts.

I tried to think of what she could have been warning me against. Was Francis okay? Why hadn’t he waited for me at his work? Was he sick? The ride on the bus took forever and no time at all. Time ceased to matter while I was the bus. My book, journal and my tarot cards were in my bag, but I didn’t pull any of them out. I knew that none of them would bring me comfort until I spoke to Francis and I could feel his arms around me. I sat there on the bus knowing that everything would be okay if I could hear his voice, if I could feel his lips against mine.

By the time I got to his building and got off the bus, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was on a death march. I was filled to the brim with worry. When I reached the building, I ran into the lobby and keyed his buzzer number into the voice box. I expected to hear his voice welcoming or saying hello like he normally did, but there was only the sound of silence to greet me before the loud buzz telling me that the front door was open. I didn’t bother with the elevator but took the stairs to the apartment. I knew the stairwell was closer to the apartment door and I wouldn’t have to walk down the hallway.

With each step, the worry filled my mind until it was all that I could see. I pictured Francis sick on his bed or injured and waiting on the couch for me. I could think of no other reason for him not to wait for me. He must have been hurt. It was the only explanation that made sense. When I got to the right floor, I left the stairwell and there was his apartment door. I raised my hand to knock on the wood, but the door opened before I could knock.

Francis stood there.

He looked horrible as if he had been crying for a long time and I went to kiss him, but he backed away from me. He held up his hand in the universal gesture of stop and I did. I looked at him and I could see the seas that had been calm before were now a wild storm. The water lashed against his eyes.

“You’re only six years older than my son.” He said softly. Francis looked like he was struggling to get the words out.

“I know that already,” I told him and went to move inside the apartment, knowing that everything would be all right if I could just hold him and tell him that everything was going to be okay. That we would get through whatever was wrong together.

He held up his hand again and actually pushed me softly back from him. “No,” he said. “You’re only six years older than my son.” He said again. “I’m going to be sixty-one when you’re just about to turn forty. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t ruin your life.”

Something clicked in my brain, and I finally realized what was happening. “Francis, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be what you want me to be.”

My chest hurt and I wondered if my heart would stop. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t draw breath, I was shattering but I was still standing in front of the man I loved with all my heart, and all he did he still had his hand up, like a talisman, holding me apart from him.  “I don’t want you to be anyone else but you,” I told him, hating that my voice was breaking. I watched my words fall to the carpet at his feet, unable to reach him. “I love you with everything I have.”

“I can’t do this,” he said again. The words came out roughly and I felt like he had slapped me.

“Can’t we go inside and talk?” I asked, sure that he would let me in, that I could hold him and comfort him, positive that all I needed to do was talk to him. I didn’t realize that his mind had already been made up.

“I don’t love you,” he said. “I’m not sure I ever did. I think I was in love with the idea of you.” He didn’t say anything for a moment and in that silence, my heart broke into pieces, shattering like a glass window into so many pieces. I could hear them clattering to the bottoms of my feet, the jagged edges cutting into me and making me bleed all the way down. It was like the floor rose up to hold me and at the same time, the lights above me were incredibly bright, so bright that I couldn’t see.

“I love you,” I said. I realized then that I was crying, that tears were streaming down my face. “I love you, Francis. I love you with all my heart.”

He nodded and it looked as if my words hurt him. I could see the pain slash across his face. “But I don’t love you. Don’t make this difficult, Jamieson. For both our sakes, please.”

I nodded, unsure how to find my voice, feeling as if I were falling and flying at the same time, unable to get the world to stop moving and stay still. I stared at him, unsure of who this man was anymore. Had I loved someone but never knew them?

I nodded again, pulled my coat around me. “Okay,” I said. “Okay, I love you, okay. Okay, I love you.”

I turned away from him because I knew that the more I looked at him, the more I believed that our love could survive anything and I knew that it was no longer there, he had put the wall between us. “Okay,” I said again.

I went to the stairwell door and looked back at him. He was looking at me, but he didn’t see me anymore. “Bye.” I said, trying to fill that one word with everything I wanted to say but he didn’t want to hear.

I went down the stairs and out the side door. It had grown dark, and it was raining when I stepped outside. I stood there in the rain, letting it wash over me for a moment, before I started walking towards the bus stop. I was almost there when I heard my name behind me. I turned, my heart in my throat, expecting to see Francis racing after me, but it was Max. She was carrying an umbrella. “Jamieson, here. Get under here. Are you okay?”

I nodded my head but when the tears started again, I shook it from side to side. “I don’t know.”

“That was a shitty thing.” She said. “A really shitty thing he did to you. I told him not to do it that way. He’s such an asshole.”

I almost went to his defence even then. I almost told her that Francis wasn’t an asshole, but I couldn’t do it. I just nodded because I couldn’t find the words.

“Are you going to be okay?” She asked.

I nodded robotically. “Okay.” I said. “I will be okay.”

She hugged me tightly and when she pulled away, she gave me her umbrella. “Here, you need this more than I do, you have further to go home.”

More tears started. I felt like I was walking away from the home where I had been the happiest. Where Francis and I had been building some kind of life together. “Okay,” I said. “Thank you,”

I walked to the bus stop then and looked into the distance. I could see my bus coming. Getting onto the bus, all I could hear was the sound of rain and the rest of my heart falling away from me. I took comfort from the pain I felt because it meant I was still alive.

As the bus took me back to Lisa’s, I let the tears fall and they mirrored the rain falling outside of the bus. I turned to look out the window and could see my face, pale against the glass. It looked like I had become water, and I wondered if the water would take away the pain that was running through me. Finally, I embraced it because I felt like I deserved it. As the bus moved onward, taking me away from the man I loved, I knew that I was leaving a part of myself behind. I looked at the roadside and could see the jagged pieces of my heart littering the road like rubies in the dark.

Chapter Thirty-One – 10 of Wands

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Memoir

Content Warning: This chapter deals with the subject and details of a sexual assault.

The house was always filled with other people.

Lisa’s stepson Paul was helpful but was lost in the woes of being young and misunderstood. Her roommate Frank was a tall thin man with a long goatee and coke bottle lenses in his glasses so that it looked his eyes were mere like shiny green beetles. His hair was frazzled and I wondered if he exited merely on coffee and cigarettes. Lisa’s boyfriend Carl visited fairly often and I wasn’t sure how well they got along. It looked to me like he was trying to hold on to flame and wasn’t sure what to do with the bright fire.

There were always people coming over and they would stay for a coffee or sit with Lisa in her backyard smoking cigarettes or pot. Sometimes, song would break out when someone started to sing, or the music of laugher blessed the air. Lisa’s home was a place of freedom and there were a lot of people that felt as comfortable there as I did. Her home was an ever-moving tapestry of people, and it was hard finding a moment alone, if at all.

I read a lot and ventured into the solace of words to get some private time. I found comfort in books by Charles de Lint, Christopher Moore, Anne Rice, Stephen King and Tanya Huff. My reading tastes had no boundaries, and I read everything that I could. When I read, I could find solace in a world that held so much, and I didn’t know how to find my place in it.

If the days were filled with people, the evenings were more so. Paul would bring by his girlfriends, Frank sometimes brought someone over and if Carl was staying the night, I would sleep on the couch so that Lisa and Carl could share her bedroom. I tried to cocoon myself as much as I could. I spent a lot of time with the other people that came by Lisa’s, but I cherished the moments that I spent alone within another world contained in pages of a book, or staring up at the night sky and wondering about the journey that the stars had taken so that we could see them.

One evening, Lisa and I actually found ourselves alone. The sky was dark, and the night was warm. We were both smoking a cigarette and reading our books in the light from the kitchen. The air was warm against my skin, and I relished the silence of the night, only broken by the sound of a nearby mosquito.

I could feel Lisa’s eyes on me and I turned to face her. I could tell from the set of her gaze that she was about to ask a very serious question. She had that kind of face that always told me where the conversation was about to turn. I admired that about her. Lisa never thought to hide anything of herself from me.

“I’m going to ask you a serious question and I hope you aren’t offended. I know we’ve talked about it a little here and there, but never full out in the open. I called you a warrior witch when we first met. What battles have you fought? Who drew first blood?”

I shook my head, watching a stray wisp of smoke disappear in front of my eyes. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“You don’t date. You just sleep around, and you don’t look for anything more, or you choose guys that you know are bad for you.” I’d been wondering when she would bring this up. I had told her about what had happened with Shades. “What gives?”

I think it was those two simple words which were able to break open the dam that I had kept under lock and key for such a long time. In that moment, I took a breath and looked at the smoke rising from my cigarette as it floated into the sky and away from me.

“It’s easier that way.” I told her. “I came out of the closet when I went to university, did I ever tell you that? I finally felt like I was free to be myself away from everyone that had know me and had expectations of the way I should live my life.”

I couldn’t look at Lisa. I knew that if I did, the spell would be broken and the words would dry up, too afraid to be seen as well as heard. I knew that if I wanted the words to come out, I had to look away. “It was the first guy I ever went on a date with. The first date went well. He took me out for coffee. His name was Mickey, and he was hairdresser. We talked about art and creativity, and we really clicked.”

Lisa didn’t anything, but she put her hand on my right knee to comfort me. In her own way, Lisa was letting me know that it was okay, that my words were safe here shared between the two of us and the comfort of the night. “He picked me up for a second date and he took me to his friend Wendy’s place. He kept giving me beer to drink and I was having fun. The fun took a hiccup when I blacked out for a bit. I remember Mickey picking me up off the floor and he took me into the hallway to walk it off.”

I could feel Lisa’s hand getting warmer. I took comfort from that warmth, and it made the cold I felt from that long ago night that I still carried with me lessen a little bit. It was as if she were trying to fight against the ferocity of the memory with the power of her touch. “I don’t know how, but we ended up in the stairwell. He was kissing my neck and then he turned me around, so I was facing the wall and pulled down my pants. I was so out of it, but I had enough sense to ask him what he was doing. He told me he was going to fuck me.”

I let those words hang in the air for a moment. I had never told anyone this before, had never spoken of what had happened to send me into the downward spiral that I had went through during my time at university. I hadn’t talked to any of the therapists or my friends and family. I held onto the shame so that it was mine alone.

“Afterward, we walked back into the apartment, and everyone was whistling at us and I couldn’t help grinning. It was only later that night as I lay in bed in my dorm room that I realized I had been raped.”

I heard the click of a lighter and Lisa passed me another cigarette. Mine had gone to ash. I flicked the butt into the ashtray and took the new cigarette. I drew in a breath of smoke and let it go free. I knew that tears marked my face, I could feel the wetness on my cheeks. Lisa squeezed my knee.

“You really have to meet my friend Francis. He’s gay and he was a rape victim, too. Sometimes, it’s good to talk about what happened to you with someone else who understands what it’s like, you know? You can help each other heal.”

We were silent after that with only the sound of the mosquitoes and the meow of a stray cat from across the street to fill the absence of sound.

Chapter Twenty-One – The World

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Finding Balance, Memoir, Tarot

It began slowly.

I noticed it growing more insistent each day. I had tried to ignore it and to shove it away from me, to pretend that there was just whimsy that had entered my mind and foolishness. I was filled with worry all the time and I didn’t know how to deal with it. I didn’t know how to be gentle with myself as I was with everyone else. I had been taught that to be gentle was to be weak and to be hopeful was to invite foolishness in.

Still, the idea wouldn’t go away.

Every time I went to bed at night, curled up on my roll of foam on the floor of Sunshine’s bedroom, I wanted more.

I wanted more than this. I knew that after a few months of living this way that I needed a sacred space of my own. I wanted to have a bathroom that I didn’t share Dan and Mike and Sunshine. Four people to a two bedroom people was a lot. I didn’t want to feel like I had to be on all the time. I needed a space of my own.

I knew this with my whole heart. Before the words started to pour out on their own, the vowels sliding over my lips and the consonants stabbing into my cheeks again, I told him. This was something I wanted and I had to believe that I was worth it.

“I have something I want to talk to you about.” I told him.

“Sounds serious. Hold on, serious talks require smoke to smudge the space.” He lit a cigarette and passed one to me before lighting one for himself. “Okay, honey. The floor is yours.”

I took a deep breath, sure that this would change our friendship. “I think I need to find a place of my own.” I said. Once the words were out, I felt an incredible weight lifted off of me. “I hope that’s okay.”

Sunshine’s eyes widened in shock and then relaxed. “I swear your psychic honey. You almost always know what I’m going to say and you say it before I do.”

I was confused. This was not the reaction I had been expecting. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Sunshine said. “I’ve been trying to think of how to bring this up to you but couldn’t find the right way to say it.”

He looked really uncomfortable all of a sudden. “I don’t want you to think this is me talking, it’s Mike and Dan. They love having you around, but they thought you would leave eventually. I kept telling them that you were still sorting stuff out.”

“They want me out?” I asked. “I’m sorry, Sunshine. I really am.” I hated the idea of being a burden to anyone.

“Well, they said you don’t pay any rent here. I mean, it’s not an issue I have. I love having you here. You are like a brother to me.”

Hearing those words form him meant so much at that moment, being so far away from my own brother and my family. It had been such a long time since I had seen my brother and I missed him a little every day, especially being here. His legend lived large, and people reminded me of that all the time. I thought of Sunshine as my brother, too. He was more than a friend to me, he was family. I hated the fact that he had had to stand up for me and defend me against Mike and Dan. I should have been able to fight for my own honour. “I’m sorry,” I said.

“Don’t worry about it, honey. They have their panties in a wad about something like every fucking day and can’t figure out if they’re straight or gay yet but every night they fool around together. They’re a couple, yes, but a couple of what I’d like to know.”

He tapped out his cigarette and gave me an inquisitive look. “Now, back to you. I can help you look for a place or least find you someone who can. You’re not alone in this, honey. You’ve got me.”

I motioned around me. “I love this, I love living here with you, but I want my own place, I’ve wanted my own space for a while.” I let out a sigh. “But I have no idea how to go about it.

“Well, that’s easy. The YSB can help you find a place.”

“They can?”

“Sure, they helped Angel find a room to rent in a person’s apartment. They have a whole roster of places offering a room for rent. I’m sure they can find one for you.”

I set out with Sunshine that day feeling a sense of hope that I hadn’t had before. We went to the YSB right away after we grabbed something to eat. Walking into the centre felt different that day, as if I was about to witness a great change. Sunshine asked one of the workers there and they brought out a small binder with rooms and places to stay that were available and also willing to take the $325 from monthly welfare cheque.

I ended up going to see a room at a boarding house on Arlington. It was a small, dilapidated townhouse and I liked the aged aqua colour of the awnings, the flaked white paint of its walls. Sunshine and I knocked on the door and asked the man who answered it if they had any rooms for rent. The man who ran t he said he did, one had just become free.

Sunshine said that he would meet me in the square later and I gave him a quick hug. It felt odd to be starting the next part of my journey on my own, but it had been that way before and would be that way again. I had to get used to swallowing fear so that it could help me fly.

The person who ran the house was a little French man named Joey. He had a kind smile and large glasses that made his eyes look like they were dragonflies blinking at me from behind the lenses. He was older, he said, and ran this house on his own. He showed me to the large kitchen to that had windows that overlooked the street. Then he took me up the stairs and to the first door at the end of the hallway. He opened the door with a flourish as if I were about to enter a mystical place, and in a way I was.

The room held a bed, a small bookshelf, a dresser and a small desk. It was homey and warm with dull grey walls in a herringbone pattern and lots of warm coloured wood. There was a mirror that stood above the dresser and saw my reflection in the mirror. I didn’t turn away from myself but turned to look at all the space I had. There was a small window on the far side of the room, next to the built-in bookshelf.

“This would be all mine?” I asked him. I looked at the roll of foam and the purple backpack I carried with me. It was everything that I had in the world and it made the room seem bigger than it was.

“Of course it would be. You’re welcome here if you want to. I would be happy to have you.”

“Thank you,” I said.

I had to sign a contract with the house, and they would be in touch with the welfare office to make sure that he got paid. It was the fist of the month in a couple of days. I was worried, but Joey said to not pay that any mind. “What is a couple of days?” he said.

I nodded my thanks and didn’t tell him that to me, two days was everything. I looked at my room that was mine and I marvelled at the fact that it had a door with a lock and a lock meant safety. I sat on the bed and took out my two blankets and spread them out on the bed and finally felt at home for the first time in months.

Laying down on my own bed for the very first time, I wondered what the future would bring.