The New Sense

Monday, July 15, 2002

B— left today to meet his destiny in Vancouver. Or not. He's planning to knock on the door at the address given by his real mother on his birth certificate. He doesn't want to phone ahead of time in case it puts her off. He says he'll find out much more by confronting her. That's if she still lives there twenty-three years later. I asked him if he was going to see his parents but he said no — it would only upset them. As far as I can see they must be pretty upset already. Though maybe they're used to it. Maybe B—'s missing three years were already a source of grief for them.
I'm feeling kind of blah. I've been puking every single morning, it was really muggy all weekend, and now I'm back to sleeping on my own. B— said he would email me with news when he could.
It was such a slow day at work. Summer isn't good to Olga's. It's a winter bar. There's just the guy who moved in upstairs, me and Hugues, who's doing some sketching. He so nice. He asked me about B— and seemed really concerned that he had gone so far for an indefinite period. (He said a couple of weeks. The word 'couple' means different things to different people. In both senses of the word.)

Now that he's not here it almost seems like the last few month have been a dream. If it wasn't for this thing inside me I'd have a hard time believing that it wasn't a dream. When I stop to think about it even the fetus seems like a figment of my imagination. If it wasn't for the puking. Wow, my view of reality is entirely based upon vomit. A bit like Sid Vicious, I guess.
B— doesn't leave many traces, that's for sure. When I look around the apartment there's literally no sign of him. No sign to him. Even after a few hours without him I'm doubting the whole thing. Is he just crazy? Has he fooled me with this sense thing? Have I been hypnotised or just plain conned into believing his delusion?
And it's hard for me to appreciate exactly what it is about his sense that makes the world so different for him. All I can think about are the very concrete examples, like at the casino or saving the girl who was being raped (that was real, I'm sure). But he always said that he was being hunted because of his 'way of seeing the world', which leads me to believe that the crucial thing about his sense isn't it's usefulness at all, but something far more profound.
I feel like I have to get my old life back. I should call Kelly tomorrow and try to see her this week.

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posted by Sara