Beauty That He Held Up

Vancouver was never my first choice.

The sunshine of Los Angeles called me every time my thoughts wandered, begging for my valiant return to the lifestyle I was used to, the lifestyle I was comfortable with. Not cloudy days, storms lasting weeks on end, or the gloomy nature the skyscraping city took on. It stood tall, unmoving in the wind, looking down on its people who walked to and fro.

So many people called British Columbia home, over six hundred thousand, but it felt like so many more at times. Nameless faces every time you walked down the street, just another ant in the ant hill. Vancouverites racing back and forth, unbothered to apologize for knocking your tea into you while chasing their unruly children or in a hurry to get back to the office after a late night affair, trying to call the florist first thing to send apology roses to your wife.

It was a never-ending sea of misery, and I was struggling to stay afloat. No life vest or buoy in sight to give me hope, to keep me up. The sharks waited below, hoping for their next victim to succumb to the current and fall prey to the natural order of things. Who would be next to go, in this madness they called Vancouver?

The familiar vibration from my cell hummed against my derrière, just another indication that I was in fact connected to this city. Pulling it out and turning the screen on, there was that familiar text message I had grown accustomed to. My breath hitched, no longer joining the cold air that blew around the streets. An early lunch? I knew the place, but I had long figured you to be napping right about now. Had something happened?

Pulling my scarf tight, I politely dodged who I could before turning into the small, somewhat private café that you loved so much. I’d like to have said we met here, but we didn’t. “Hey you.”

I wasn’t too sure about my luck in this city, but I had to have had some when I came across you. Barreling down the street to get to your new apartment, you had forgotten to close the trunk and we had spent an hour picking up hockey equipment off of the street.

You were so flustered, it was kind of cute. You had those eyes, full of laughter and memories. It’s almost scary to make eye contact with you to this day. Alone, you made those millions of nameless faces bearable. The first time we truly argued was when I refused to go to a team dinner with you. I knew I wasn’t good for you, not nearly as good as someone else could be, but you wouldn’t let me hear the end of it.

I always loved your kisses and this time was no exception. You ordered the usual for yourself, a frappa thing that you indulged in once a week. How did you know me so well? Hot tea with two sugars? I never knew you paid attention, but it makes me smile. Don’t ask me why I am smiling. It’s all because of you.

“Come to the game tonight? There’s something special going on before the game. Just use your normal pass to come down before 6:30.”

Kissing me one more time, you were gone once I had agreed. Foregoing your nap was not a good thing, but you were always a stubborn one. Always insisting on ice cream for breakfast and eggs for dinner. What was once a life of being thrust down a spiraling staircase turned into something much more the day I met you. I no longer spent my days walking to and from work, wondering when my clock would finally run out. Wondering when I’d finally be able to get the hell out of this place and move on, only for someone else to fill in my position. I kept asking myself ‘When will it be my turn?’

You kept me strong, showing me the greatest parts of life itself. Sure, you had just been on the opposite end of the continental United States, but you made the best of it all. Proving yourself to your team that you wanted to be there, encouraging yourself that this was a new start. You excelled with flying colours, always giving me a smile that would reveal so much about you.

There was more in this world, and you did indeed open my eyes.

I would be late at this rate, if I didn’t get a move on. Finishing my tea, it joined the others at the bottom of the waste bin before I faced the cold winter blasts once more. Checking the time, it was five, meaning you would just be getting to Rogers Arena. If I walked and didn’t rely on public transportation, I’d make it there right at six.

That was one of the few things Vancouver had in common with my beloved Los Angeles: cars were everywhere. You would rarely be on time if you limited yourself to a contraption on four wheels, stuck in the middle of a car pie on First Street. The SkyTrain was albeit shady in certain areas, but it got the job done. I’d be at Rogers Arena in an hour.

Six o’clock, an hour until puck drop between the Vancouver Canucks and the Los Angeles Kings. Of course it would be tonight that you’d want me to come down. I had, under even stranger circumstances, befriended their captain in 2003. Working in the Staples Center, the first round draft pick had swung his stick around and clocked me in the head. It couldn’t have worked out better. He and Nicole had become my family quickly and were nothing short of wonderful friends.

I had become too comfortable in LA, but it was home.

There was indeed a special presentation going on tonight because both the Kings and Canucks were on the ice warming up at six. I had barely made it, giving me enough time to pull my jersey on and slide onto the bench with other family members to watch the last half of warm-ups. Cole Bieksa sat next to me, making faces at his sister and yelling at his dad.

Playing with him for a moment, I was on the lookout for you on the ice, but you weren’t close. Standing off to the side and passing to players to take a shot, you never looked over like you usually do. Eventually, the buzzer screeched, but neither team came off the ice.

Dustin skated over, stopping in front of me, but only held his hand out. Taking it, he helped me over the boards without falling and stood next to me. It felt weird to be on the ice and not be near you. Maybe something was really wrong this time. Looking around, you were not on the ice anymore. Kevin greeted me with a smile, before nodding at Dustin again.

Carefully, he kept my hand in his own and began to skate towards center ice. There was something beautiful about standing in a filled home arena, fans cheering in good fun for their team, begging to bring Stanley to the city. There was almost something majestic about it.

We stopped and he pulled me into a hug. One of my greatest friends, one who meant so much to me, looked like he was going to cry. “You’ve become my sister and my family, and now I am forced to make a tough decision. Just know that I love you, and that LA will always be your home if you want it to be.”

I could only nod in confusion as he skated away from me, joining his teammates in leaning against the glass. Something moved, but it was only you coming out of the tunnel. You didn’t have your gloves or stick, but you looked nervous, almost pale. You skated out to me, and I saw the microphone on your jersey. Taking my hands in your own, much like the hundreds of times you had done when we were alone, it was still comforting.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, if we could have your attention at center ice for an important announcement.” John Ashbridge’s voice rang out over the PA system, quickly bleeding out through the crowds of people standing around in confusion. Maybe I’d join them because I was well past the point of confusion.

“David, what’s going on?” Nothing was said as I looked at you, frowning. You only smiled at me with both your lips and your eyes as you go down on one knee.

“I know that there have been changes in our lives, some that we didn’t think were for the best. Sometimes, being a creature of habit isn’t the best thing to do, but it brings us closer to those around us. When I met you, dodging cars to help me pick up my equipment, it was a sensation that I will never be able to explain.” My eyes began to tear up at your words. “We aren’t perfect, but by not being perfect, you’ve become the most beautiful thing in my life and I consider myself lucky to have met you. You make me strong, you make me who I am. Will you marry me?”

I guess this makes Vancouver my home for the time being.