Short Stories on Leaving…

Aug 30th 

Like writing a paper, times new roman 11… I wonder if my Italian family can hear me typing?? The door is closed, I hope not, I don’t want to disturb them, but I have to write, its been so long…

Summer is winding down, its dead everywhere and I’m still waiting for a crazy night out at these famous clubs I keep hearing about. That dreadful feeling that I’m missing out, or rather that apart of me, the part that feels alive, is missing. I think back to dancing on the beach at Samsara and Porto Ceasreo and the feeling I had, a feeling I have been searching for my whole life, to feel alive and pure happiness. I suppose that’s what I’m searching for and why I’m so desperate to go and why it kills me to know that tonight is a huge night a Riobo, possibly the last, and that Thursday is the last huge night at Praya and that everyday at Samsara there is still the beach party, but those days are numbered…and so are mine.

The lesson here is to appreciate the gifts I’ve already been granted, my time here, the wonderful people I’ve met, and the simple fact that I got to experience such moments at all. But the low is so low when you crave that feeling again, when its within your reach and you just can’t make it, and I hate that feeling particularly because its familiar, the feeling of always being on the outside. What I’m most afraid of is the feeling I associate with my life in Canada, the feeling of restlessness, of waste, always wasting my time away, wasting my life… and that feeling was gone here.

In these last days of summer, as things are winding down, that familiar unease is creeping, hiding in the shadows, waiting to take me captive, to strike and wrap itself around me, hauling me off back to Canada; my return an undeniable reality, an impending doom.

Aug 31st

As of tomorrow the countdown begins, 20 to zero and then lift off. Literally, what is unimaginable is slowly manifesting into reality. As much as I want to enjoy my last moments here, all I feel is impending doom. I can picture my legs carrying me forward step by step, through each flight, the airports, security… every step until the last step onto the last flight bringing me back. I try to picture myself there, at my mom’s house, at my sisters house, going to work, normal daily things but it just doesn’t seem real. I think I’m paralyzed with fear, that I wont be able to manifest the life I want, that I’ll be stuck and trapped and miserable and wasting away, just like the last 10 years of my life.

I made this grand exit, swift and dramatic. The perfect response to what happened to me. And as the dark months passed and fell away, I emerged and found love and happiness that I had never known, not for a person, but of a place. A place whose warm and welcoming culture healed me and brought me back to life, a better version of myself than I’ve ever been. I’ve learned a lot of lessons, and in this trying time I feel I need to keep those lessons in mind, for example a positive mindset will bring positive outcomes…These last few days have been hard and here’s why, people have disappeared on me, or never worked out in the first place. Unanswered messages, that old familiar feeling of being unwanted and the embarrassment that always goes along with it…I hate that feeling.  I’ve learned not to chase after people, I’ve learned that if someone wants to see you or speak with you or know you at all then they will, so yeah it really hurts when the phone is silent because it means no one wants you, at least not enough to make an effort. I suppose its understandable considering that I’m leaving, who could blame a person for placing their chips on themselves, or another who they can be certain of.

And here’s where the next lesson comes into play; its not about them, its about me. And now is the time to stay focused on me, on what I want, where I’m going. I have to continue to make my life and to make my happiness, and perhaps now I face the greatest challenge because I am standing alone. The pain I felt before was tied to someone else, whatever heartache I feel for leaving this place is all my own, and to feel unwanted on top of it, I suppose that’s what truly has me down.

And then theres ego, my ego. I love that my life is adventurous, I love posting beautiful pictures of beautiful places, I love that my happiness translates through these images… that is the greatest reaction, when people see how happy I am, “your happiness in infectious” those are the greatest comments.

Going back is like a fall from grace that I can’t stomach, those awful words “grand adventure” which imply now its time to get back to reality… but I want this to be my reality, I only want the grand adventure if its my life, not if it’s a phrase people use condescendingly to discuss my life.

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