I've been home for just over two weeks now.
And I'm not really sure what to make of it.
I thought I was content, I thought I was fine to just watch TV and eat home cooked meals. And in a way, I am. There is nothing safer, nothing that makes me happier than being on Glory Road, in Bancroft, Ontario.
And maybe that's the problem.
I've downloaded almost a dozen travel movies and bookmarked three times as many travel blogs. My mind doesn't rest on the here, but the 'when' and 'how'. Like, how viable is it to hitchhike across Canada. Or, when will I have enough money to buy a plane ticket that leaves this continent.
How long until I graduate.
When can I return.
When can I leave.
There are so many question marks in my future, but I think I'd almost rather that than solid answers. Answers are grounding, definite, and final. Questions are freeing.
- - -
If you see me, ask me about the twenty-four hours I spent getting home, including those hours that I thought I wasn't going to make it home.
Madrid to Lisbon to Toronto nearly broke me in more ways than one, but I swear I was the happiest traveler regardless. I accidentally told the guy at the Pizza Hut that I was gleefully going "Home to Canada!" rather than if I wanted dipping sauce or not.
- - -
I'm leaving for camp tomorrow, one of my favourite places in the world. And I've seen a lot of places now. Ontario Pioneer Camp holds a special place in my heart because it has shaped me into the woman I am today, and has given me so much. It is home as much as Glory Road is. I am very happy to continue to readjust back in such a place.
I don't doubt that it will continue to be a challenge to readjust back to life on land, but it's a challenge I think I am ready for.
Because, for a while, I was stupendously at sea.
