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It’s Time to Fly to Canada (and I’m Not Exactly Ecstatic)

“Did you start packing?”

“Not really. I’ll get there, eventually.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

“Anything new?”

“Nope.”

Feng and I ran out of things to talk about. There’s nothing wrong between us, it’s just that our respective daily lives aren’t that eventful. I entertained him with my French protest stories and a few day trips. He isn’t that much into French family drama. There’s absolutely nothing going on in Ottawa, apparently—in fact, the news is rather depressing. And Mark and Feng call me at 11 p.m., French time, so even though I’m a night owl, I’m not an active night owl—I don’t have the energy for long, philosophical discussions.

It’s okay. We’re at the stage of our relationship where long silences over Skype are perfectly acceptable.

He is here and I’m here everything night. It means something.

It’s Friday night, Nantes is partying and drinking, and I’m packing. I mean, I have to, at one point.

I’m flying back to Canada and I’m not very happy about it.

Oh, I’m happy to see Mark and Feng, I’m not a monster and I’m not running away from them.

But I really don’t want to be in Ottawa. It would be too long, too personal and probably pointless to explain why. Basically, I just don’t think it’s worth it anymore.

Tomorrow, I’m taking the first Nantes-Montreal Air Transat flight of the season. It looks like a full flight, I’m sitting at the back of the aircraft. It’s too early for the yearly summer pilgrimage—French families living in Canada visiting home, Canadian families living in France visiting home, and a few curious tourists from both sides of the Atlantic Ocean. In May, I’m expecting students and grandparents who are wisely coming after the famous Canadian winter they had heard about and didn’t particularly want to experience. A few lone travellers like me as well, I suppose.

And as in most France-Canada flights, I can guarantee that half of the passengers will be super excited because OMG, Canada, and that the other half will be sitting at the gate with tears in their eyes because sometimes, you leave or come back because you just have to.

Guess what, it used to be me, and this is me now.

Miroir d'eau, Nantes, April 2023
Miroir d’eau, Nantes, April 2023
Gare de Nantes, April 2023
Gare de Nantes, April 2023
Gare de Nantes, April 2023
Gare de Nantes, April 2023
Gare de Nantes, April 2023
Gare de Nantes, April 2023
Gare de Nantes, April 2023
Gare de Nantes, April 2023
Square Maquis-de-Saffré, Nantes, April 2023
Square Maquis-de-Saffré, Nantes, April 2023
Square Maquis-de-Saffré, Nantes, April 2023
Square Maquis-de-Saffré, Nantes, April 2023
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Zhu

French woman in English Canada.

Exploring the world with my camera since 1999, translating sentences for a living, writing stories that may or may not get attention.

Firm believer that nobody is normal... and it’s better this way.

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