In
Ottawa, visiting family and friends. It seems like I never left, at times… I’ll walk down the street, and see people I haven’t seen in months, and just nod, or wave, and they’ll do the same, not stopping for even a few
token words of greeting.
With others, there’s a big
reunion scene, but five minutes later our relationship is exactly the same as when I lived here. No change in interaction, behavior, anything. It’s comfortable that way, I suppose. I don’t have to think about the fact that I’m leaving soon.
…
My
mother is vacationing in
Quebec with
Charlie, my
little brother, and she’s left me her place to stay at while I’m in town. It’s nice to be able to have the time alone with
Jessica, to have privacy, and a room with a door we can close. I miss
Venk, but it’s hard to want to be back in a house where your bed is in the kitchen.
We may be broke, with only enough
bus tickets to get us out of the house once more before we leave, but it’s still a much-needed vacation.
With that said, I haven’t been sleeping well at all. Four or five hours seems to be the most I can manage. It’s unnerving, after spending so long, being able to sleep as much as I wanted, to have these problems pop up again.
It reminds me of being
seventeen again,
smoking cigarettes out the window in my room, watching the night go by, feeling as if my insomnia was a
grand secret that no-one else knew about.