Riggers · the 905, Toronto
Two hours of every evening are the highway, and nobody has ever come out
Pinned as driving_in_from_outside
- Wants
- somebody willing to make the trip in the other direction occasionally
- Rope so far
- Sixteen years, four partnerships, every one of them requiring a car.
- Around
- the 905, Toronto
The highway takes two hours out of every evening I have ever spent with anybody in this city, and I have paid that cheerfully for sixteen years. What I have noticed lately is that in all that time not one person has driven out to me. Not once. Not as a gesture, not because it happened to suit them, not ever.
I am not bitter and I understand the reasons perfectly. Everything is downtown, everybody's building is downtown, and the trip out here is dull in a way the trip in is not. But it does mean every relationship I have had has carried a small permanent asymmetry underneath it, and in two cases the asymmetry is what eventually surfaced as the argument.
So this time I am asking at the top. Would you come out here, sometimes? I have a house with a garage and a door that shuts, which is more than most people in this city can say. I make a decent dinner. It is forty minutes against the traffic on a weekday evening and roughly half that on a Sunday.
The rest of what I want is ordinary. One person, a standing evening, years rather than months. I am home most nights, my children are grown and gone, and my time is genuinely my own for the first time since I was twenty five.