Shacking Up

I am looking for an apartment that day. I have recently come out of the hospital. Daniel comes with me to see a four and a half, or two bedrooms in an area called Villeray. I like the apartment right away because it is minutes from the Metro. It is on the top floor of a triplex with two balconies and a fire escape in the back. The rooms are painted differently. The hallway is a golden yellow, the small bedroom I want to use as an office is brick red. The bedroom is a true blue and the living room is a peachy orange. The kitchen is in a leafy green.

I have to buy a fridge and a stove. I wasn’t worried because I am working and can afford that. The rent is four hundred and fifty per month, not including the utilities. Daniel likes it too. He lives in the McGill Ghetto with a roommate where I end up spending a lot of time before I chose this apartment.

Once I move in, Daniel is there all the time at first. After about two weeks we are having sex about three times a day. This is also around the time I lose my job. I receive two weeks of severance and go on unemployment insurance. Eventually, I receive work as an English as a Second Language Instructor.

Daniel’s internship ends and he plans to do a graduate certificate in international journalism through the University of Québec in the city of Québec. Daniel is from a small town called Lévis close to Québec City. When the fall comes, he spends the week in Québec City and visits me every weekend.

I have been keeping a journal since I was seven years old. Daniel gives me one in yellow that has pictures of bees on it and says “Bee Happy.” I anoint my new prize, my new stable into my writing.

I’m thinking of depression. How I will be experiencing it in a new way it seems to be something that could happen, as my doctor says. Daniel tells me not to worry.

Then comes the winter.

Advertisements