Home

It's been so strange. Not being here nor there. For the first time since I started travelling independently, I have no "going back" to go back to. I talked about it with my mom, and she said she felt the same way. Like, it kept hitting her that this was it- York was her home now, and had she made the biggest mistake in coming here? In fact, she said, England didn't really feel like home at all until almost a year later when she and my dad made a return trip to Canada to visit me, among other things.  In returning to the place where she had thought would feel most like home, it hit her that it didn't feel like home at all. She had no house there, no work, no belongings. It was, she said, a great place to visit, and see all the friends she had made over the past 8 years, but it didn't feel like home. York did. And she was glad to eventually go back there, after a couple of weeks.

I can feel that way a bit. Again, I have no physical abode to return to there, and only my poor sister Dani is still stuck there out of my family members. I have the majority of my friends who live there, but I have started to make a few friends here too. I have a job of sorts here, and I love the food and lifestyle much more. People are more reserved here, so I like shocking them with my openness. I feel fresh and bright and, strangely, a bit American. Bold. I can't even begin to blend in as soon as I open my mouth, so I've reached the point where it's just like Alright already, I'm a foreigner yes, get over it and sell me my darn kale.

It's a different life than what I was leading in Alberta. But it's not worse. I quite think that I will enjoy my few months here. I'll keep you updated.

So It's Begun...

And so it has begun, the goodbyes. I hadn't even realized that some would happen so soon. I guess it is August now, and with my decision to not come back to Edmonton after the road trip, the end of the month is creeping up.
It blindsided me. We went to a movie and then got Denny's dessert at midnight, and when we parted he said, Well, I guess this is goodbye for a few years.
I hadn't even been thinking that. But he was going to Germany later that week, and wouldn't be back before I left. Oh, I guess you're right, I said. We hugged, and I said It was nice to have met you.
And he laughed, and told me You're going to have to get used to this.
And I thought to myself, Oh dear, oh no. If this is hard, imagine saying goodbye to your closest friends. I am predicting August to be a weepy month.

Have fun in Germany, I said.
You'll have so much fun, he told me. You are just like a movie character. Like a character from a book. You will have lots of adventures.
He got out of the car.
I'll send you a postcard! I shouted after him.
And he smiled, and said Goodbye, Andrea.
Then shut the door.

I drove home, jittery from sugary pie and being up too late and a maelstrom of emotions. I didn't cry (enough tears have been shed over more important things), but I felt numb. I know that when I actually leave I will feel sad, but I will also feel overwhelming relief of having escaped, and excitement for the future. I also have come to understand over the years that there is very few growing experiences that aren't painful, and through the biggest and hardest and most difficult situations you come out the other side that much more refined.