Leaving Toronto was really hard. I must admit, I’ve been feeling scared as hell. Scared, nervous, sad, but excited at the same time. Does that make sense? I’m scared and nervous to live in a different country for so long. Eight months may not seem long to some, but for me, it’s a pretty big deal. The longest I’ve been away from home was a month and even then, I became very homesick by the second week! I guess it’s because I’m leaving behind so many people I love and care about. That’s got to be the hardest part about leaving your hometown for so long.
I’ve always known that I’ve been so fortunate and blessed to have such amazing family and friends. But somehow, with this trip, I feel I’ve been reminded of how much I can take them for granted. I met up with more friends (even friends I normally never hang around with) over the past week than I have over the past few months. Ironic, huh? All because time was limited. Imagine if we always thought of life that way: “your lifetime is limited”. Easy to say, difficult to grasp. The people I care about the most all live in the same town as I (most of them, anyway) but life catches up with us and it’s very hard to make time for each other. Now that I’ve left the country, I’m wondering to myself why I hadn’t made as much effort before to see and catch up with some distant friends before – especially with those I didn’t get to see before I left. Now that I’ve left the country, it’s too late. I know I make it seem like I’ll never see them again but departing Toronto brought about the realization that I have to take advantage of every moment and every opportunity to keep in touch with the people I care about most. They make me who I am, they’re my support when life brings me down, - they keep me sane. Now that I’m no longer with them, in a geological sense, it scares the crap out of me. Yes, technology these days make it easier to keep in touch, but talking to someone through a webcam only does so much.
I tried VERY hard not to cry when leaving my family (plus twin) at the airport, and surprisingly, I pulled through. Although, the waterworks did begin once I got onto the plane. Lifting off the ground was especially difficult. Slowly feeling and grasping the fact that you’re no longer touching Canadian soil brought heartache. There’s no turning back. “On to new horizons!” as they say.
Anyway, I should stop being sappy about this. Stockholm will be the new home for a while and I must make the most out of it because this opportunity will most likely never come again. Luckily, my relatives will be picking me up from Arlanda airport once I land in Stockholm. And there goes that voice in my ahead, along with the voice of others who’ve repeatedly told me: “at least you have family there!” This is very true indeed. But somehow, that seldom gives me comfort or sense of relief.
But what can ya do! Bring it on, life!! You’ve thrown shit at me, and I know I can handle more of it (ew, what a nasty literal thought). This entry is getting quite long but I feel like there’s more to write about. I’ll write more because waiting for five hours for my flight is going to kill me if I do nothing else. I can’t believe Heathrow doesn’t have free WiFi.
Anyway, I met this lovely older couple on the plane today. They’re from Winnipeg and both their names start with H. Therefore, I shall call them double H, intentioned only for this blog. Double H were quite nice. I’d describe them as one of those talkative, but cute older couples! They remind me of those senior couples who don’t know how to configure modern technology. I don’t know if that now seems like an insult. They weren’t incompetent, I can tell you that much. They were a very nice retired couple going on one of their many vacations around the world. Their destination this time around? India for two months. Shoot, should have just told them that that’s my hometown (Brampton) and that I could give them a tour. Just kidding. Bad joke, bad joke.
Typing out a blog certainly doesn’t consume as much time as writing it out with a pen, which sucks because I really need to kill more time. When checking in my luggage back in Toronto, I was forced to remove my journal from my carry-on. I only realized now, with this five hour wait, what a grave mistake that was.
Terminal 5, Heathrow – how glamourous. Harrods over there, Tiffany and Co. not too far away, not to mention Burberry right across from me. Oh, and Gordon Ramsay’s restaurant right over there, and a caviar shop behind me. NBD. Wow, I’m bored.
Okay, this entry has certainly surpassed its intentioned length. No one will REALLY read this whole thing when they first catch a glimpse of how long it is - unless they really, really love me lol. So if you’ve made it this far into the blog, wow.. you have no life. Just kidding! I appreciate it. It seriously saves me from repeating the same story over and over. Now I shall find something else to do while listening to the comforting sounds of Ingrid Michaelson. Until next time! To my loves (you know who you are), I miss you loads and loads already!
Ps. I don’t care what anyone says – airplane food is bomb.
No comments:
Post a Comment