*crunch*
i understood well and truly for the first time why you can`t go home again. i knew quebec with my heart and soul in a way i hadn`t realized. there it was, the cities were the way they should be, the voices, the land. it was all right again. as we pulled into montreal i felt a peace i don`t have in other places. i felt world weary at that moment. the last time i had been home it had been with my aunt and my grandmother. i had just turned 18 and after a summer of illegal drinking i had ordered my first legal drink. i went from being two years underage to legal in the space of a week. the safety of my childhood was robbed from me too. true as a child i had to put things away or they would be stolen, and even i could be stolen if i wasn`t careful, but still in those days if you followed the rules nothing too horrible would happen. look after your toys and you wouldn`t lose them. still it was my home. it felt right in every way. it had been five years since i had been there and the street i still remember wandering along with my mother when all the buildings had been towering high above me had found space for a starbucks, but it was still right.
i started to wonder if i would ever find another place to call home again. could i find my way back to montreal? will i go searching for some new place and settle until it feels right. or was that it? will i float through the rest of my life? does that thought scare me or is that what i`m secretly yearning for? or is it a lot more simple than i make it?
probably that one...on side note, the persian boy was so much sweeter than i remembered. makes me want to watch useless movie with too much eyeliner all the way through so i can write up a better list of reasons why i hate it. but it seems like too much watching of bad movie involved.
i started to wonder if i would ever find another place to call home again. could i find my way back to montreal? will i go searching for some new place and settle until it feels right. or was that it? will i float through the rest of my life? does that thought scare me or is that what i`m secretly yearning for? or is it a lot more simple than i make it?
probably that one...on side note, the persian boy was so much sweeter than i remembered. makes me want to watch useless movie with too much eyeliner all the way through so i can write up a better list of reasons why i hate it. but it seems like too much watching of bad movie involved.