“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.
i feel you. I remember when I was feeling the same before I moved back. You don’t have the same choice but you are lucky enough to be able to travel a lot and not be there all the time. I wish I did, and sometimes I wish I could right now 😉
I do love this aspect of my life even though it’s not always as easy as it may look. Are you happy where you live now?
Yes quite happy actually! Even if I do miss travelling in Europe because it was so easy 🙂 Montreal can be quite surprising and fun, and on top of that you have so many festivals to attend there’s always something new to do!
I do think Montreal is still a fun place and Quebec has its own culture, so it may be less depressing than the rest of Canada right now.
Gosh. May I just double your ‘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’.
I’m not in Ottawa – in Vancouver, actually. And yes, yes, what a beautiful and amazing city it is (nodding and mentally responding to how people usually talk about Vancouver).. And yet, for too long, too personal and pointless reasons to explain, I just feel that I don’t belong here on some weird level.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts and keep posting. I found your blog while googling if anyone else gained weight after immigration (oh lol). And stuck here reading other posts. It felt a lot of resemblance with some of my internal processes.
Nice to meet you, and now I’m curious about your life!
Vancouver looks like an amazing place. I never made it to this side of the country (… mostly before it’s cheaper to fly to innternational destinations!) but it sounds like it’s also a complicated and expensive place.
(If you did gain weight after immigrating, fear not, you can lose it if you want to!!!)
i’d love to chat with you, looks like we’re in the same boat.