Oh, that pesky ocean

I'm leaving the country and after a couple of playful text messages from the London Boy, I decide to take matters in my own hands in the form of an ultimatum: if you want to see me, set a date. Ten minutes later, he texts, "Monday?"

I think I was beyond nervous and excited to see him. It had been a whole season since we've seen each other. We meet in the city centre and he is looking so much like the handsome boy I could never keep my eyes off of. I easily fall into his embrace as we greet each other in the middle of a busy downtown walkway. "You look beautiful," he says. I snap my phone closed and we're off.

We walk to the restaurant, an understated place on Queen's St. On the way, we're chatting and catching up, and the whole time I'm beaming, soaking in every word, every nuance, every little bit of him. As we wait to be seated he opens his arms to me. We hug like nothing else exists in the world, everything melts away except us in this moment... until the hostess clears her throat and we turn to be shown to our table.

As we share a strainer of beans, he tells me of his life at home, his hopes, his accomplishments. I'm so proud of him. Of who he is becoming. I stare across the table and with a settled resolve realize that this handsome boy is everything I want, but something I still can't have.

He treats, and he proposes we do it again, when I get home because "you are coming back aren't you?" We part at the subway with a kiss on the cheek and a promise for an e-mail to be printed and read "on the plane, only."

Later when I get his text message, I know that even though an ocean will be between us once again, it can't keep us apart forever.

Three weeks to go, and a new boy

I'm leaving for Australia in less than three weeks.

Besides the pursuit of my one and only true love, I have also been overwhelmingly occupied with pursuing higher education in order to achieve all my future aspirations, hence the trip (possibly this could explain why Prince Charming has eluded me thus far). So with work winding down, and friends slotting themselves into the few precious days I have remaining on this side of the world, a new boy slips into my life.

I met this boy at a friend's family holiday tradition, him and his entire family. We spent the day making homemade ravioli and nursing our holiday hangovers. His blue eyes caught mine across a crowded, noisy room and dare I say there was chemistry as we battled it out playing guitar hero?

I was surprised when he asked me out, and when he proposed bubble tea, even with my flight looming, I couldn't decline. We talked the night away and even though we are both aware of the expiry date I was shocked not only did we get along so well but that he wants to see as much of me as he can before I go...and when I return.

This week has been full of happy surprises; I even opened my email this morning to a very lovely note from him.

Of course, post-date I dished all the details to my friend, who returned the favour with every juicy detail he spilled. And let me just say, so far it's all been very sweet.

Ticket to ride

I quit my jobs, I paid my tuition and today I've booked my seat on one of the few nonstop flights halfway around the world! It's time for some change of pace in this single girl's life and I'm 55 days away from an Australian adventure and the beginning of my Master's program. I can picture myself leaving all my worries, troubles, underpaid jobs, debt and useless love exploits away. Yippee! It hardly seems real, except that as soon as a little birdie announces my soon to be scarcity I get a phone call...

...from the London Boy. "I've been so self-absorbed. I'd hate for you to go a whole world away without me getting a chance to see you." His story sounds vaguely familiar. In fact, I'm absolutely certain I've heard it before. So without raising a shocked eyebrow I agree because this time I'll believe it when I see it.

And whether or not it happens, I still have a ticket to ride and I don't care!