Entry #29: Montreal

Montreal was one of our favorite cities. I didn’t travel there often before I met Annie and because of that I knew little of the city. That all changed with Annie.

Annie loved Montreal and convinced me to travel there more often so we could meet and she could show me all the great things about the city. It only took a few trips for me to realize how much I had been missing and how this particular city was so well suited to who we are and our dreams together for the future.

As I write this, you have to remember that all of this transpired a long time ago. Annie was never welcome in the U.S. during that time. The fact that she had a successful corporate career was a testament to her drive and the fact that she found herself in a company that refused to allow discrimination within its ranks. Even by today’s standards, many companies pay lip service to non-discrimination but turn an eye away from actual instances of it.

I became an expert at watching for “the look.” The more often I saw someone looking at Annie with disdain and hostility, the more dismayed I became for her safety. The reality of the situation was that since I was accompanying her, those feelings were projected onto myself as well.

We shared our feelings over this many times and we worked hard to find a place where we could live and have a future together in a welcoming environment. In the end, Montreal became the obvious choice. Even though it was only a short plane ride away, it was like traveling to another world where your gender or color of your skin held no sway over living an every day life in peace and happiness. The U.S. held no such hope for us. Even today, while I still live in the U.S., I would prefer to live somewhere else that is more inclusive and welcoming to everyone.

Without Annie however, there is little motivation for me to leave. Without Annie, life has become something like living on a treadmill. The day-to-day is repetitive, all the while my memories of her surround everything I see and do.

Her picture in my phone and her iPod, which frequently finds itself in my pocket, represent the shattered life that remains from the love that we shared for each other.

Entry #18: It’s a Black Tie Thing (part2)

The band arrived in San Francisco, retrieved our luggage and instruments and sure enough, Steve had a bus waiting to take us to the hotel. Steve was in the ballroom attending to details and welcomed us and had one of his assistants shuffle us through check in and gave us a time for sound check. Everything seemed to be as discussed and he said our clothes were already in our rooms. He pulled me aside and invited Annie and I to lunch with Jean and himself. He said Annie was already out with Jean and they would meet us at lunchtime.

I needed some time to clean up so I headed up to our room and sure enough, Annie’s stuff was already in the room and hanging up were two garment bags. One had a nice black suit for me and one was obviously for Annie. I took a quick peek inside and was a little worried about her dress. It was a sparkly purple in color, a color she never wore and while I didn’t pull it out of the bag it seemed to be hanging a little weird. There were also matching heels that seemed awful high.

We all met up a bit later and when Annie gave me a hug and kiss she whispered something French in my ear and Steve heard her. When getting ready to sit, Steve pushed himself between Annie and Jean. I immediately became uneasy as I am always so protective of her.

From out of nowhere, Steve and Jean began a conversation with Annie in french. It became a threeway conversation with a lot of laughing, and some blushing from Annie as they looked over at me and would say something else they thought funny. Since I don’t speak french, and understand so little, I seemed to be the butt of their jokes and comments.

Annie was going out again with Jean and said she would meet me in the ballroom shortly before the show and to just go ahead and get dressed when I needed to. As Steve and I left he told me how much he liked Annie and thought she was a perfect match for me. She had reluctantly told him about our plans to get married in a few months and Steve said once we were all settled he wanted us to visit their place in England.

The sound check went fine and all seemed to be in order, so the guys all went to our rooms to get ready and agreed to meet for drinks like we always do before a show. Steve and I were the first two down and we were hanging out in front of the stage with drinks when Annie and Jean walked in. I was facing away and didn’t know they were there until I heard Steve say “Holy Shit.” I quickly turned around and couldn’t believe what I saw.

Annie was walking across the room towards us. She looked like a vision. The gown left little to the imagination. In those heels she towered over Jean and it looked like she was poured into the dress, what little there was of it. From the hips down it went to the floor, but there was little there from the hips up. The dress had a plunging neckline down to her stomach and when the light hit it just right it seemed to be see through. The color on Annie was amazing. I was speechless and finding it hard to even breathe. My mind was spinning over what I was seeing and Steve kept saying holy shit!

The look on my face seemed to be a problem when she got to me as her eyes became huge (like they always did when she was fearful) and she put her arms around me and asked didn’t I approve of the dress? All I could manage was to tell her she is the most beautiful woman I have ever known and my heart can’t stand it anymore. When I put my arms around her I was shocked again to feel her back. There was no dress there at all. It was open all the way down to her butt. The color, the fit, the pure sexual tension that emanated from her astounded me.

During our first break Annie and I danced and I was in real trouble. When I held her close I could feel every inch of her body. It was like the dress wasn’t even there. I whispered into her ear how is the dress even staying on, what is underneath it? She whispered back there is nothing underneath it. I was doomed.

When the show ended I grabbed a couple of bottles of champagne and glasses and said we had to get out of here. It was the longest elevator ride of my life. We got into our room and I poured a glass for us both. She was standing right next to a table with a small bag on it that I didn’t even notice at first. As we stared into each others eyes I told her how much I loved her and I moved to lower the sleeve of the dress off her shoulder. She immediately stopped me and shook her head no. I was confused. As her eyes got big again she dropped the dress herself. Holy shit! There was indeed nothing under that dress. I reached for her and again she pushed my hands away, shook her head and said no. She reached into the little bag and drew out a blindfold, put it on and pressed herself against me and said “now show me how much you love me.”

The next thing I remember is we were in a tangle of arms and legs and early morning light was coming through the window. As I watched her while she was sleeping I thought this is the most beautiful woman in the world and I get to spend the rest of my life with her. I will never forget that night.

Entry #13: The First Time

I remember the first time. After all these years, that moment is burned into my memory forever.

We were in Montreal for a show and it was just another rehearsal like so many others. We played the songs exactly the way we intended them to sound and then sat to listen to the playback.

Annie snuggled up next to me with her head on my shoulder as the music began playing. All of a sudden, when the voice track began, she was singing the lyrics in my ear to the music, soft as a whisper so no one else could hear.

In French! In stunned silence, I just sat there squeezing her hand, hoping the song would never end and I would breathe again before I passed out. As the song went on I could feel her shudder as she sang. When the song ended, I turned to face her, completely confused, only to find her in tears.

Annie said she had not spoken French in years, and she loved me so much she just became overwhelmed in the moment and it seemed to be the only way she could express herself. I had no idea she could speak any other language but English. She said yes, she also spoke Vietnamese and a bit of Tagalog.

After that evening, she spoke to me in French a lot. I mean every day. I do not understand 95% of what she said and she would translate in English immediately, but I had to hear her speak to me in French.

The hours, spent gazing into her eyes as she lovingly whispered to me in French just melted me. I will never hear her voice again, but those are memories I will take with me forever.