Today I’m writing from work, on the day of the year which used to be my favourite.
I remember Montreal- the fall leaves, chill air, the excitement of going to school and getting candy in class.
I remember Ottawa, walking in front of the school where I lived and dragging my feet through the gold and orange there.
I don’t remember when I lost the wonder, the joy, the magic. It could have been the year I went on my first date, down the hill, going through with a promise even though I had found out that I wasn’t allowed to skip the boarders’ party- I got told off for it, but narrowly avoided getting detention. It could have been the year I threw a party at the university which was sparsely attended, and generally derided by a few of the attendees (yes, I know who it was, and who it wasn’t, don’t get all excited). It could have been the disaster that was last year’s Halloween festivities, which hurt more than anything else ever has. But it could just as easily be that time moves on. Personally, I think it’s because I’m tired of being really enthusiastic about something which the people around me just don’t care so much about.
I am really tired of feeling so down, and really tired of feeling like I’m not enjoying the things that I really love. It’s not fine anymore- it just isn’t.