This time, two weeks from now, I’ll be sitting in my assigned (hopefully window) seat on Virgin Airlines, preparing for a 16 hour flight back to North America. This time, two weeks from now, I’ll be going home.
Everyone seems to use the word ‘excited’ when talking to me these days. “Are you excited to see your family and friends?” “Do you think your cat be excited to see you?” (hello of course she will be) “You must be so excited to go home!”
Truth is, I’m not.
Let’s leave aside the fact that I’m going home to fucking Canada in fucking February, which is usually the worst fucking month of the fucking winter (…ugh). Let’s leave aside the fact that I’ll have less than no money when I get there and am probably going to have to take the first job that comes along (which will most likely end up being cleaning toilets at Lee’s Palace or something). Let’s put aside the fact that I’ll be leaving behind amazing friends and some stupid guy I’m head over heels for and all that awesome stuff that goes with awesome people…
I have to go home to real life, guys. I have to go home to a job and bills and rent and cat food and thinking about the rest of my life and not being able to travel any time soon and trying to pay off credit cards. As much as I’m looking forward to having a bit of structure back in my days, real life isn’t as cool as my adventure life has been.
This last almost-year has been, in short, phenomenal. I’ve been excited and scared and lonely and loved and homesick and broke and happy. I’ve done things I never thought I would do, and missed out on things because I was acting like a dumbo. I’ve seen places that made my soul vibrate, and have met people whose names I can’t remember, but whose laughs I can still hear.
I’ve spent the last year learning about myself and seeing a small corner of the world some can only dream of.
My mother cried when I told her I wasn’t excited to go home. It’s not that I don’t love home, but rather that I’ve had the most amazing, freeing, enriching year of my life…and it has to end.
Yes yes, ‘There will be plenty of adventures in 2013!’ blah blah blah…believe me, I love Toronto more than most people, and will have fun and love life no matter where I am. I am, at heart, a ridiculous optimist who loves to challenge herself and experience new things. I’m excited for whatever the future holds, and can’t wait to get on stage again and pursue a career in events and hang out with friends….but holy shit, I’ve spent like DAYS at a time reading shitty books in the sun drinking margaritas by myself. This is the LIFE, my friends! You can’t blame me for being sad to leave it.
Two weeks from today I’ll be on a plane, headed home. To sound entirely cliche, this has been my Eat Pray Love; I’ve learnt and drank and connected and loved, and now it’s all ending. I’m excited to see people and eat my favourite foods again, sure…but it’s hard to maintain a happy bubbly outlook when you’re having a fucking blast where you are right now.
This said, I know my cat will be so excited to see me so, y’know, it’s not entirely terrible.