March 18, 2017
I’ve been back in Vancouver for almost four weeks now. It took me some time to get adjusted, and I still think I’m adjusting. When I got off the plane, I made my way through Customs (with a slight uncertainty about whether to mark the ‘resident’ or ‘visitor’ section of the landing card, knowing well that I am not officially a BC resident yet). The main feeling I had was excitement, as it bubbled through me, knowing Jason was on the other side. Some anxiety surfaced as well, of course – and at brief moments, a sinking feeling.
We hurried ourselves through the airport and out, in our own way fleeing this reminder that I had actually arrived from London – the airport and all my suitcases was a direct call out to the fact that I had actually been there, that long. We talked like no time had passed, though, pushing the cart, discussing the flight and the movies I had watched, what I ate. We then were paused for a moment, in semi-awkward silence, by the parking attendant, waiting for him to wave a green light for us to cross into the parkade.
In the parking lot, I looked at him and the hustle of the task that was my airport pick-up dropped away. I felt heavy and an exhaustion from the idea of going back into Vancouver. I sunk a bit.
London was far behind physically, but having closed the door on that chapter now, the magnitude of the thousands of incredible moments of my last 18 months had huddled into a single memory: Dense with adventure and learning and joy, yet somehow less accessible in mind. In an instant, a year and a half of experiences turned into a single cloud of some one thing that had happened, my mind best recalling what my room on Croftdown Road looked like, emptied of my belongings, suitcases on the floor. I gulped away an oncoming tear, then reached out. We hugged for a long time.
Standing there in his arms by his car, I muttered, “I could do this forever. Can we do this forever. I don’t want to go anywhere. Let's just do this forever,” holding him tight.
And in the kind of way that only Jason knows how, he replied, “Yes, yes we can. But it costs a dollar for every 10 minutes.” I laughed into his chest and just like that I was light again, the tension gone. A warmth settled in me and I knew, at worst, he’d make me laugh through whatever awaited me.
adjust (v) from Late Latin adiuxtare "to bring near”
Posted by Visnja Milidragovic at 11:37 AM