The X factor

Two weeks ago, Superstar showed up in the city, unannounced. He returned to pick up the remainder of his things and transport them to his new life on the coast.

When I got his call, tears flowed immediately. I wasn't sure if I could see him, because it was quite possible I would sob the entire time. It might hurt too much.

The thing is, I didn't really mourn the loss of this relationship. Two years of my life, with my soul mate, ended right before Christmas. At the time, we held each other and cried, had amazing break-up sex, and then didn't see each other until he was leaving town. A supper with some friends and then a latte date to say a final farewell.

After that, I didn't cry at all. Just went on with my life. I was preoccupied with work stuff and immersing myself in thesis research. Not to mention cuddling the awesome cat I replaced Superstar with.

I thought I was fine. And then, at the end of May, the same day I had been approached to participate in a threesome, I went to the arts festival with Superstar's family, who invited me to watch the boys' dance performance.

It was so great. The five-year-old girl was so happy to see me that she hugged me at least 12 times, and sat on my lap the entire performance. The 11-year-old was thrilled with the book I gave her on early Canadian women settlers (this kid is way too mature for her years. For instance, she's read all of Jane Austen. I'm an English MA student and I still have one Austen book to go!) The boys' dance was great, and I had interesting conversations with Superstar's sister and brother-in-law.

At the end of the night, I hugged them all and they promised to have me over for supper soon. As I walked away, tears began streaming from my eyes. I felt the full impact of the loss of our lives together, being part of that family on a daily basis. I've never felt like part of a real family before, except for when I'm in Italy visiting my family, and I'm lucky if I see them once a decade.

I missed Superstar and what we had together. Particularly juxtaposed against the threesome offer earlier that day. Being the guest star in a liaison with a married couple is perhaps the most casual, uncommitted sex you can have. What Superstar and I had is the polar opposite of that: true intimacy, love, connection, and passion. Next to that, everything else seems so cheap.

I felt as though I had been broken open. For at least two weeks, I cried myself to sleep, feeling the emptiness left by their absence in my life. I realized that I hadn't really dealt with it over the past five months. It dawned on me that my heart is, indeed, broken.

And then, he showed up on my doorstep.

To be continued.