Things left behind...

When I moved from Calgary in October and kissed my boyfriend goodbye, it was not meant to be permanent. Much like my hair colour, the situation was intended to be temporary. Although, for the record, I am a natural redhead should anybody ask. Or blonde...sometimes I get in a mood.

We had discussed and agreed that we would do the long-distance thing until he took care of some business and moved out to join me. We were prepared. I researched articles on long-distance dating and how to make it work on every lifestyle website I could find.

I would bring the most realistic suggestions home, and I genuinely thought our relationship could actually improve when apart, if we just worked at it. Two weeks after my move he phoned to say he had compromised as much as we was able and would not be moving after all.

And to think that I could have spent that time reading gossip and fashion sites instead...which is pretty much what I did the rest of the time I could have done without the interruption.

Last week he phoned to say that he was seeing somebody, and it was serious. I got the impression he was hoping I would sigh with relief and tell him that I too was seeing somebody and we had met each other's mothers and he could sleep guilt-free that night -- with somebody else.

I wasn't about to tell him I had found my perfect match and once the Witness Protection Program allows him to resurface so he can contact me we will be very happy together.

(If anybody has any other explanation for wherever it is Tyler has gone and why I haven't heard from him since our date I would love to hear it. Bastard.)

So there's that. Tonight I was lying on my bed praying for some kind of cure to the global warming crisis because it is so hot in my apartment the chicken breast I took out for dinner this morning was overdone on the counter by the time I got home.

And that's when I got angry, because my ex has a fantastic air-conditioner and I have none. Some other woman is enjoying cold air blowing where she sleeps, while I have a fan that blows hot air around the room. Granted, my fan has a remote with a flashlight which will come in handy...whenever I need a flashlight the size of a pencil point. But still.

I really, really miss that air conditioner. It was a window unit, and I could sleep under my blankets all year. It made a soothing sound that lulled me to sleep. Now some Calgary tramp who's life goal is to make it from receptionist to yummy-mummy through the power of her husband's salary is sleeping comfortably next to my old air-conditioner, where I slept for four years. And I miss him. It. The air-conditioner. A lot.