Today, on this rainy Sunday October morning, I am feeling homesick for places I’ve never been, memories I haven’t made and the life I’m not yet living. I’m missing my spacious condo in the city with the view of the water, and my quiet neighbourhood that is literally minutes away from my favourite park. I’m missing my four-legged companion and all of our adventures around the city, and hikes through the forests and mountains.
I’m homesick without my routines. Mornings filled with fresh called espresso shots, right after a hot shower that washes off my early morning lagree classes. Days filled with client meetings and breakout sessions. My work constantly extending a little later into the evenings, giving me just enough time to go home and change, then scoot on over to my late night hot yoga class that I take two times a week. I miss sporadic weeknight events and dinners catching up with friends. I miss weekends that I’m not travelling for work, at home exploring the artisan markets, or taking the ferry across the water. And weekends spent inside, avoiding the cold, snuggling watching movies and cooking meals for the week.
I’m homesick for the friends I met when I moved to the city; the group of people who became my tribe. For my favourite coffee shop. I’m homesick for the smell of the air, the freshness of living so close to nature. I’m missing the views of the water, having a beach so close you can go and stick your toes in the sand daily. I miss the weekly phone calls back home to my mom and my flexibility to come and go as I please. I miss the smell inside of my condo, coloured with vanilla candles and a hint of my perfume. I miss the relief of being dropped off the front of my condo building after a long work trip and being able to get into bed without answering a million questions or having to worry about anything. I am homesick for this life I created for myself.
Homesick for the mountain top views I haven’t yet seen, and valleys that dip low. For the real life versions of my scenic screensavers. I’m missing the bustling street markets in Asia, and the side streets in Europe with the best pizza and most authentic coffee. I’m missing the salty ocean water and the Australian heat beating down on me. I’m missing rainy weeks in Paris, running from covered spot to covered spot avoiding the rain as best we could. I miss driving on single lane highways deep in the midwestern states as we quested to try all of the best BBQ places from Canada to Texas. I’m homesick for captivating views and really good books on train trips across Europe. Chugging beers in Ireland and dancing until the early morning in Ibiza. All inclusives in Mexico that were booked last minute out of desperation for sunlight and warmth. There are so many more experiences, memories and feelings, I could go on forever. I’m homesick for this life I’ve created and come to know so familiarly but have yet to experience any of it.
It’s difficult to be 25 and still living at home. Knowing the life I’m ready to evolve into and embrace fully is still years away from manifesting completely. And that I am unable to afford to live the way I deserve to live my life. It’s hard to explain and this is the first time I’m really giving it a physical existence by putting it into words, because it’s always just been a feeling for me. I’ve tucked this life deeply in my back pocket; conscious of it at all times, but afraid to ever really pull it out and air it open. Everything in my life thus far is building towards this future. My patience fluctuates. Some days I long for more; for a fast forward button or something drastic and urgent, leaving everyone unscathed but pivoting me into this life where I’ve mapped out each detail exactly. Most days, I’m totally happy to get to spend as much time with my mom as I have. Our early mornings commuting to the city together, days spent apart working but our evenings cooking and watching television. We’ll sometimes run out and get coffee and go to Walmart, just to get out of the house or walk around our neighbourhood on nice nights. It’s nice to live with someone and have a companion. But today, this life is eating at me. I’m itching to start living for myself. To get out of this house, this province, these financial limitations. More money would solve all my problems.