Prior to my trip to Montreal for my immigration interview I have been surfing for places to eat in the area near the hotel. When eating out I tend to gravitate towards food that has superb taste, regional authenticity if I am eating country-specific fare, and price that is affordable and reasonable. While I crave my usual fast-food, I enjoy trying out dishes and exploring the diversity of a place.

One of the restaurants that have caught my curiosity is Il Focolaio which is the same block as my hotel. Their name is from the Italian language meaning “hot bed” or “fireplace” which is apt as they use a brick oven and firewood to roast their pizza made from  scratch. This place is reminiscent to a restaurant in Boracay my family and I would order pizza from which made me want to try it all the more. 

The night I arrived in Montreal was cold and when I got to my hotel room I almost didn’t want to to go out and eat dinner as my feet were killing me (the shoes I borrowed from my room mate was an inch shorter than my feet). But then I realized I have to seize the opportunity because I don’t know when will I ever go back to Montreal again or try out a brick oven baked pizza. So I bundled up and winced my feet in the damnable boots and took the elevator downstairs. I brought with me my Google map and I was surprised that the restaurant was less than ten meters from the hotel. 

The restaurant was not busy, to my relief, and the guy who was bussing tables told me to just pick a spot where I want to sit. I sat in the middle of the restaurant near the bar and  oven. The oven was not very distinct as there was a  partition that the staff use to prep the pizza. The lady who gave me the menu was really nice and she was prompt in service (it helped that there weren’t a lot of customers). I ordered  the Al Prosciutto and a blond beer. While waiting for my food I noticed staff who brought pizza bags for delivery and I think it’s wonderful that they have delivery service. 

And then finally my food came…  A pizza perfection just for me! I took a picture which was torture in itself as I just want to grab a wedge and stuff it in my mouth. This is definitely one restaurant I would love to go back over and over again.

Finally, I am cozy in my hotel room in downtown Montreal. It took me 14 hours to get here from British Columbia and my feet are killing me. Yet the next few hours will determine the real outcome of the wait that has lasted eleven months.

A few hours from now I am going to face a US Consul in the Embassy. He or she will be interviewing me and determine if I am fit to be awarded a visa to move to the USA and be with B . 

We did our paperwork, we've submitted all our requirements, I have read online forums to mentally prepare myself, I've checked double checked and triple checked the mandatory requirements. I am ready. But you know me, I am stretched inside and ready to snap from the mental stress and nervousness that I am feeling.

Everyone says I'll pass. But my twisted brain refuses to accept this. Yes I may pass, but there is a possibility I will fail it too. No one really knows the final answer until the Consul says it tomorrow. And so I sit here in the hotel bed waiting for my  B to come home from work so I can pillow talk with him and hopefully sleep soon. I am mentally reviewing the steps I have to do tomorrow and visualize the inside of the embassy so I am able to complete the task as soon as I can. I have a plane to catch back to BC so I am hoping to finish the interview by 9 AM. 

Tomorrow is the big day. I feel the competitive side of me push the pessimism and fear aside and I see the words form in my head now... "Bring it on!”

February is the so-called month of love and in a couple of days it’ll be Valentines day. Whatever. Right now I don’t really care.

Yes, I am blogging again. They say communication is the key to a successful relationship and I know I should be telling all these things to  B but there is no  B to tell it to as he has decided to turn his back on me and sleep rather than stay up a few more minutes and listen and assure me. But because communication is the key to a successful relationship I will still “communicate”, even if I am just communicating in written form filling the blankness of my journal with words he decided not to hear.

Many times I have heard him say how I don’t blog anymore. What he doesn't understand is that in the past instances that I wrote about him in a not so positive way he reacted poorly that I felt I had to defend my writing which in principle I need not do. And so after those instances, I felt the need to censor myself from my own online journal to avoid hurting him. I cannot write about things that matter to me, I cannot vent any form of ill feelings towards him online, I had to keep it all inside again. And without any form of release, my mind is again frayed of unhealthy thoughts. And since I’ve kept them bottled up for so long,my mind is so exhausted I will have to see a shrink again.

What my mind cannot wrap itself around (and why I am upset) is why my own husband puts up with his ex-wife so much. And here are just some of the examples:

1. He takes care of her son (son from the husband who she was cheating with when  Band her was still married) often. Bringing him to the apartment and treating him like his own son.
2. Allowed her to stay in the apartment he lives in to the point that she folded his clothes.
3. Stays on a phone call with her even though she is not talking about their own children anymore.
4. He tells me that I should give her a chance before I judge her (the ex-wife).
5. Let her text him very late at night over trivial things.

He says I get jealous irrationally. He says I don’t trust him. Perhaps. But then he doesn’t really try to prevent me from being jealous because he never put her in place. He says, "I have to put up with her until our son turns 18". And what of me?!? Am I always the one to put up with both of them?!? Am I always the one to understand?!? Is it really gonna hurt his custody with the kids if he tells her to be considerate and text when it’s not late at night? Will her ex prevent him from seeing his children if he tells her he has to go if she is just raving about what his friend’s son said to their son? Will she ask for more financial support if he tells her to not touch his clothes? NO. But he doesn’t say anything. Even though I asked him nicely or I asked him rudely or I asked him brusquely to tell her to be considerate he doesn’t do it. WHY? I FUCKING DO NOT KNOW WHY!!! Maybe he’s afraid he’d rock the boat. Maybe he still got the hots for her. Maybe, despite what he says, he’s just in denial and is still in love with her. And so my mind goes on overdrive and then I imagine myself moving to the States to a man who probably doesn’t really love me but wanted someone to take care of him and then I'll end up the rest of my life second best forever trying to be the only woman to my husband's eyes and heart but it will never happen. 

I know, these are evil thoughts. But lately it's getting harder and harder not to succumb to my fears since my own husband shuts me down and ignores how I feel expecting me to suck it up and deal with it. Soon I will get to the point when I will have to pack and move to the States. But the way things are lately it feels like I am moving to a prison sentence full of misery and regret instead of a life of bliss and happiness.

If he just even tried one time, ONE TIME! to tell her to shut her face when she starts hammering about stuff my husband shouldn’t even have to deal with. If he just even try one time, ONE FUCKING TIME to tell her to lay off on the texting or calling late at night over things that can wait the next day. Then I guarantee you I will not even bitch about this. But him not telling her to shut her face is not the end of it, because he allows her do this and then whines at me at why she does it over and over. SERIOUSLY!!! Duh. She’s your ex then fucking deal with her. If you aren’t going to then suck it up and don’t come to me looking for sympathy because you ain’t going to get any but my anger which he doesn’t deal with as well.

I’m not a saint. I try to understand his relationship with his ex but I can only understand so much. They say communication is key but he refuses to acknowledge what I say and doesn’t care about what I need. He gets mad when I get mad and jealous. Well, if he doesn’t want me to be jealous over things he could prevent and control, I’ll just blog my anger away and maybe one of these days or weeks or months or years I will be callous enough I wouldn’t even give a damn if he slept with her.

 | V is for vent