I woke up early. I went upstairs and started cleaning the apartment. Dan had already packed almost everything; all we had left were daily essential items still in use like towels, and some clothing. I’d lined up along the centre of the kitchen/dining/living room (it’s going to be weird going home to our huge house that has actual separate rooms for each area) items for trash, recycling, palming off to neighbours, or in need of sorting. We had had a good system going over the weekend as each of us worked at a separate task. Inevitably we had to work in opposite ends of the house because Daniel couldn’t help but tell me how to do what I was doing and I couldn’t help but tell him to mind his own business. Strangely that was as tense as it got between us, at least that’s all I will remember.
We ate lunch at House Maison with Julian, Pete & Royden. The food was good. Yet another person/place we’d discovered just days before leaving Toronto indefinitely. It was our last brunch. I could barely eat. I had no appetite. I watched couples walking down Church St, holding hands and hoped that Perth has changed just enough since we’ve been away that we might be able to walk down the street, holding hands, without somebody heckling, “FAGGOTS!”. I won’t hold my breath.
In the afternoon we walked down Church St, for the last time, in the beautiful sunshine and went to the Cineplex at Yonge-Dundas with Julian, Bec & Al. We watched Inside Out, the new Pixar film for kids and adults. The short, Lava, would normally be poignant and I would normally smile, slightly. After having had to say a final, “Goodbye!” again just before lunch I was gutted.
After the film we caught the subway home, for the last time. We heard the woman’s voice announce the next station, “Arriving at Bloor-Yonge. Bloor-Yonge Station. This station connects with the Bloor-Danforth Subway.” I’ll miss hearing this woman whom I’ve never met.
Pete & Royden joined us for dinner on Yonge St at Spring Rolls where we had all-you-can-eat again. I couldn’t eat much, as I’d lost my appetite. We walked home, past the Pizzaiola, for the last time. We caught the elevator up to our apartment and palmed off the last of our toiletries to our neighbours; unopened cans of shaving cream (why did we have so many!?), garbage bags, dishwasher detergent. Julian had to drive to Etobicoke to swap cars so we went for the ride. He walked us around his family’s new house which was the size of a small hotel. Driving back downtown echoed our arrival, now two years ago. It felt like our time in Toronto has been just a blink.