I decided to buy a coffee and read in Trinity Bellwoods Park today. When I sat down, I wrote this instead.
“Where should we go now?”
“Deeper into the woods,” said Jack, “to where it’s always twilight.”
He bounded forward, hoping over roots and blasting through bushes. He was erratic and energetic in everything he did, and I suddenly imagined how it would be to kiss him.
Jack paused in his ambling, and he turned to see if I was following him. He was like a puppy off his leash and I his exasperated owner.
“‘Further in and higher up!’” I cried, wondering for a moment if he knew the book I was quoting. But his eyes lit up in a way that made me forget everything but wanting to share in his electricity. He made me feel free in a way I haven’t felt since I was five—like everything was possible. I know it’s cliché, but I let myself succumb to it, not caring that I was practically frolicking in the woods with a boy I seemed to be uncontrollably falling in love with. The cliché of it made it seem familiar and comfortable, like I’d done it before. It distracted me from thinking too much about how this guy was becoming my first love, and all that that could mean. As we dodged in and out of trees I didn’t think about being an awkward boy trying to be a man, but loving another boy; I thought about the ground underneath my feet, the air in my lungs, and the light in Jack’s eyes. I thought not about what this meant for the rest of my life, but about being young and alive.
I’ve been wanting to explore Toronto for a while now. I’ve only recently settled in and started calling it “home,” but I also know that I don’t plan to live here forever… or even be here in the next five years, probably. So I want to explore and engage in this city as much as I can while I’m still here. Really live in it.
Watching this video recently made my thirst for exploration even greater. This summer I plan to quench it.