As I've spoken about many times here before on this blog, listening to music on my iPod while traveling through the city always does a number on my brain. I have a tendency to be transported over and over and over again during a simple commute, as every song has personal meaning, sometimes too much (I have to skip these songs).
On Sunday, a friend of mine was in town from Ottawa so we met for dinner in my old neighbourhood of Queen & Broadview, where I lived circa 2004. Simply being in that neighbourhood wrapped me up in the past, and I felt like I had gone back in time. Then, I took the King streetcar home, past my old vet, all the rug shops, my most favourite building in the city (I'm pretty sure!) that I had actually forgotten about, near Parliament (it's an old, boarded up thing that belongs in a pioneer village - and I wholeheartedly love it's wood covered windows and ancient brick exterior)
For some reason, this building fills me with so much warmth.
Passing that building was around the time I began thinking of the sliding doors theory, and wondering where my many 'break off' points have been. The girl I was in the Broadview days, the St. Patrick days, the Davisville days, the Ossington days...all different versions of the same girl. All the steps I took during those days, somehow brought me here, to this day. I treasure all these steps so much (ridiculously so) and wonder how everyone I knew in those spheres is faring.
My old house on Broadview, we lived on the second floor. I planted forget-me-nots, my favourite flowers, in the little side yard, where I'd spend sunny mornings. The dying pine tree was always filled with sparrows.
Had I taken different steps, had I conducted myself a little less selfishly, would things be different now? Sometimes, I wish so, but all is so very fragile.
And lastly, why did I call this post Trianon? Simply that it was the name of the store I was passing, while on the streetcar when I thought of this post.