The stories I know

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This New Year has already been full of trips for me, and each of them got me reflecting on what I was leaving behind. Planes add to the specialness and surreal character of a journey. There’s so much waiting around in an airport, each mindless step preparing you for the next until you’re flying higher than all the birds. Then, all you can do is think. The vastness of the sky echoes your frailness. It’s a lot to take in. So you go inward.

When I left Canada – when I left 2015 behind – I felt like I was in mourning. I had had such happy times there; finding my way in Toronto, making friends I didn’t expect to meet, exploring New York City and spending some quality time with my sister. The past few months had been filled to the brim with joy and excitement. I had been a version of myself that was way cooler than any other me I had witnessed myself being before. I had been so happy there. Half the time, I found myself examining what my life consisted of as if it were someone else’s. It was all so strangely familiar yet radically different – and better – than what things had been like for me up to that point.

It is strange, too, because I didn’t record much of all the great things that happened to me last year. I didn’t bring my camera with me most of the time, nor did I even jot down notes of what I had been up to. Everything felt so intense and real that I didn’t want to risk turning it into a story… at least not right away. At the time, it all needed to just be my life; unedited, unrecorded – and most of it eventually forgotten. I preferred to relish in the good vibes instead of trying to reduce them to something that didn’t feel quite right.

Things were simply too good.

It’ll be hard to top 2015… but I sure as hell am going to try.

What is your best memory from 2015?