Montreal

My trip to Montreal is coming to and end and I've got to go home to New Orleans to pack my things, decide what next. I've been here almost a month and I've enjoyed my time. It's a little different to approach Montreal as a place to visit than it is to consider it a place to live. I've no doubt that anyone visiting here would absolutely love it.

My business reasons for having come to Montreal haven't come together as I might of hoped. Different possibilities have arisen since I've been here, but they've come together late in the stages of my decision making and may not be enough reason for me to come back for the summer. I'd like to, but I think that economically it might be the equivalent to taking the summer off, which is something I can't really do right now.

Another part of my reason for hesitating is that they want a piece of the projects that I worked on with my ex wife. I can understand why from their perspective it's worth continuing with, but from mine, I'd rather let go of the past and stop reconstructing it. It's time for something else, so I'm trying to show them how and why they can believe in my future rather than trying to sell them my past. It's not an easy agreement to come to, but everyone involved is fair, so I'm sure at least that part of it will work out.

I've found the apartment I'd stay in if I do stay. It's small and on the third floor of a building that reminds me somewhat of Paris or New York, with balconies in the read, potted plants lining them, laundry lines all over. The girl that's subletting it seems like someone that I'd like to know; she's beautiful and artistic, calm and focused. She's an aerialist and we fell into conversation easily as we had a lot of things in common in the way of interests in performance arts. She told me about the circus school where I could go to learn aerial and it made me excited to be in Montreal, made me eager to stay.

I imagined her coming back to check on the apartment from time to time. I imagined her sitting and talking with me about the performances she had planned, telling me secrets about where to go and what to do. I imagined getting to know her better as we climbed the silks, her patiently teaching me. I imagined sitting in the apartment alone, but feeling that she was always there because it spoke so heavily of her. For all the reasons that I imagined and for some that I haven't, I wanted to stay there; it felt like the right place for me if I were to be here in Montreal.

I've written variations of the letter to her, some ending with how I'm sorry that I can't take the apartment, others with some sort of conditional agreement as to how I would. I've got the day to decide which version I'll send and then it'll be time to move again; the direction being the only thing in question.