Sunday, October 9, 2011


I'm leaving Canada tomorrow. I've been crying myself to sleep every night.

The last time I moved away from home, everybody died. I'm feeling this looming dread as the day approaches - like some primal part of me knows this is a final goodbye. I'm afraid that someone is going to die while I'm gone...or that I'll die while I'm gone.

Everyone is telling me not to leave; that they're going to miss me; that it'd be best for me to stay...things my family told me when I left for Toronto. And one of the very last things my dad said to me on the last day I saw him alive was that I was the only one he felt he could talk to. And I just happened to be the only one who left home.

Of my dearest friends: one's mom was just diagnosed with breast cancer, one is about to get engaged, one is alone and scared in a new city... And I'm leaving all of them behind to fend for themselves.

Even after everything, I don't regret leaving home. And I'm sure I won't regret moving to London. But I'm so terrified that something else is going to happen in my absence. And then - what if I can't afford to fly home?


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