on new beginnings

It was the first day of classes. I looked down at my watch: 8:57 am. My first class was set to begin in 3 minutes. I quickened my pace, breathing in the heavy, damp air. The sky was a molten gray.

In my hand was a piece of paper with my class schedule. Integrated Journalism, Media Law, and Creative Non-Fiction. Integrated Journalism was up first at 9 am. Or was it? I looked down again. No, now it was Media Law. But how could that be? And why didn't I bother writing down the room numbers?

I now had 2 minutes. My heart began racing, and I broke into a light jog just as a cloud broke and released its first droplets of rain.

I woke up in a panic.

It was the morning of August 28th, and I had three days left in Montreal. Three days left in a city that I called home for the last four years. Three days to say goodbye to all of the people that I love. To the people who helped me build myself back up when everything inside broke down.

During our last lunch together, my friend Emil and I talked excitedly of our future plans. Plans to backpack the Jeju Islands in Korea. Begin an independent magazine together. Become BBC international news correspondents. That afternoon, the world seemed ours to seize. It was only a matter of time before we were reunited.

Today marks two weeks since I arrived in Vancouver. The days have slipped by--a blur of furniture, bookstores, and classes. Like most of my anxiety-fueled dreams, the one I had turned out to have little prophetic value. If anything, journalism school has re-ignited my passion for learning, and curiosity about the world.

I hope to harness this reinvigorated curiosity toward reflecting on my life in Vancouver- this strange new city that I cannot yet call home. My heart is still letting go.