June 27, 1995
Dear Ina,
This is typed because I am at work, and I am supposed to be doing something...
I am sooooo soooooo sorry for not writing back sooner. I know this is at least a few months late, and, jerk that I am, I didn’t even respond to your last letter. I intended to, and then it got misplaced, I forgot, and then, when cleaning my room, I found it. Boy, is there egg on my face, or what? (Look that one up in your dictionary of English slang.)
I know Justin will also write soon. He is in Montreal now at the JazzFest, and then off to see Phish shows in Vermont. He just drove out there after tree planting for the summer.
I hope this letter reaches you (I’m not sure what your address would be now). Probably the Swedish Postal Service is very well-organized, and you will get it forwarded.
Let’s see...there is a lot of history between now and when I last saw you. We moved out of that house a few months (or even weeks) after you left, and Justin and I got an apartment for the summer (1994). That summer, I got my hair cut short, and went to Australia to visit Alex (among other things.)
In Australia, I hung out at Alex’s parents house, in full luxury—attended social functions, dinners, etc., and then we bought EuroPass kind of train tickets that were good for as many stops as you want on the Australian east coast. We thought this would be the best possible adventure...but it wasn’t. First, you couldn’t smoke on the train—not even in the bar-car—and the stops were never more than about 2 minutes, so we would have to jump off, smoke about 1/4 of a cigarette as fast as possible, and then jump back on. We had a great time in a place called Byron Bay (really great backpackers called "The Arts Factory"). Later we stayed in his parents condo in faaaaaaar-northern Australia (Port Douglas). Luxury again.
* * * * *
When I got back to Victoria (September ‘94), a series of sweet-and-sour events occurred. I don’t know if you remember Stephen and Ervilha [names changed, you know] (I’m not sure if you even met them...) Anyway, Stephen and Ervilha had been "together" for 3 years. Both Stephen and Ervilha were close friends (I had know both—vaguely—from high school, and had been hanging out with Stephen since first year of Uni, and Ervilha shortly after).
The day before I got back, the two of them had broken up. They hadn’t really been happy for a long time. (After the first year, things sort of fizzled for them.) If you knew (remember) Stephen, it was in part because of his extreme reclusiveness—he never wanted to leave the house, did too much acid, etc.
God knows why they stayed together..."co-dependency" as a modern day psychotherapists call it. Ervilha was deeeeeeeply depressed, and Stephen was just plain messed up.
Trouble had been brewing for quite some time in their relationship. Ervilha went on vacation the same time I did (August), for a month. While away, she realized that (...............drum roll...) it was over. She engaged in a number of petite-liaisons while in Montreal, Toronto and New York. Revitalized and invigorated, she returned home, to face what she knew would be an ugly situation. For some unknown reason, she left her diary out on the kitchen table. (Freud peeps up here: "’twas her subconscious mind...") For some other unknown reason, Stephen read the diary, though he had had ample opportunity before and never done so (Jung can’t help but blurt out: "Synchronicity!") Soon enough, the truth came out, and they were officially broken up. A great deal of sorrow and dismay followed.
Before continuing, see if you can guess what comes next...
* * * * *
Around that same time, I returned from Australia, to my new house (quite a nice house, mind you—big patio, back yard, hardwood floors, fireplace, etc.) with Justin and another person named Jesse (I don’t think you met him). School was about to begin, and life was very busy.
I received the news of Ervilha and Stephen’s break-up with aplomb—I has seen it coming. I knew Stephen well and had spent a lot of time with Ervilha in the earlier summer, before we both went on our respective vacations. She had indicated (though not directly) that her dissatisfaction had hit a intolerable peak. While not really upset, I certainly could not be described as enthusiastic or happy. What I was, was interested.
I had always found Ervilha very attractive (she was a constant player in my fantasies.) Cute, pretty, petite, blond, a great body—and most importantly, a fertile, blossoming, healthy, rigorous and vigorous mind; full of curiosity and mental acuity. We were both Philosophy majors, and in most of the same classes. I had never had, nor do I have now, a real friend with whom I could discuss matters intellectual—except Ervilha. We enjoyed each others’ company, we liked the same things, and she was one of my closest friends, and then (as now) probably my closest confidant.
* * * * *
What happened next is, of course, quite obvious. Its transparency does nothing to diminish its truly extraordinary, phenomenal, marvelous, fantastic nature. While ostensibly (and actually) "comforting" her, over a movie, at her house, only weeks after her break up of a three-year relationship, we touched. Not lustfully, or indecently; but definitely not innocently either. Our hands gently "kissed" each other. And later that night, while she was dropping me off, our lips, ever so briefly, did the same.
My heart had not p o u n d e d at a kiss like that since elementary school. It was all I thought about, all night long, and all the next day, and the next...
But there were difficulties too.
Stephen was borderline psychotic (and this was before he even knew about me and Ervilha). He fretted and fumed like a madman. When he did find out about us, his condition worsened. He did his best to make all three of our lives as unpleasant as possible, and succeeded for quite some time. Relations never improved, and after months and months of quite distasteful goings-on, he severed ties with us. All in all it was quite unfortunate. I think he had many, many problems which had all lay dormant until this pseudo-cataclysmic event.
In the end, I’m sure he will be better for it.
It (almost) goes without saying that Ervilha and myself have lived happily-ever-after. I’ve already been with her longer than I’ve ever been with anyone before (eight and a half months) and anticipate being with her forever. (In fact, I imagine it won’t be long before I propose, and I already know she will accept.)
* * * * *
It was nice to be able to tell that tale—other news is much more mundane. School went quite well this year, and next May I should be receiving a B.A. (Hons.) in Philosophy. After that, um ... after that, let’s see ... grad school seems probable, perhaps San Diego, perhaps Chicago, perhaps Sydney ... I might travel first. (I still have never been to your continent, and would like to visit.
Work is very boring (as you can, no doubt, tell.) Summer is Beautiful! Around 30 degrees, with a perfect wind. I’m taking one class now, which is difficult with work at the same time, but...
Hope you receive this, and you are well, etc. Perhaps if I do visit Europe (which would certainly be with Ervilha) I will have a chance to see you again. If not, I cannot be too long before you are back on this side of the world.
Regards,
Stewart
p.s. Here is my new address (I’m moving in September, but it will be forwarded after that):
2530 Shelbourne St.
Victoria, BC
V8R 4L6
Canada