Kim

This is what I remember about the day that I decided to leave:
I woke up cold, because it was a chilly morning for June, and I looked around the back alley, and listened to the children get off the bus for school, they were excited because school was almost over for them, and I started to cry. I could not stop thinking about what Brad had said just a few months earlier, and about how I thought of that last conversation as the catalyst for my fall. By that time, I had spent the last 3 months and a bit living on the streets, as they say, or sleeping on a friends couch, whenever I could. I thought about my areas of seclusion, and of apathy, the penalty boxes at the rinks near the school, unused in the summer time, the park benches, the back alleys, friends basements, and I thought to myself that maybe I would feel different if I had a change of environment. I left town three weeks later.
That was a little over 6 years ago now, and I can honestly say that I am so much happier than I was, living out west. I can't say that everything has been perfect since then, there have been a lot of rough times, but I can say that I am happy. I live in a house with some of the best people that I have ever known, and I am thankful for them. I get to make music that makes me happy, and I have met people that are passionate about making music, too. I have found a place where I can be happy with who I am, but to be honest, I am not sure if it is because of the change in environment, or if there was always this happiness inside of me, and I just chose to ignore it.
I like to think now, looking back, that there was always this joy inside of me, and that I would have eventually found it, either here or there, with the right heart. So I always shudder a little when people say "the grass is always greener on the other side" because I always think to myself that people should just be content with where they are, but then I remember that morning, 6 years ago, when I decided to leave, and I feel guilty for thinking to myself that maybe you should just stay where you are. I do hope that you find what you are looking for, but I hope that you look inside of yourself first, and if you decide to look over here, I will look with you, like older brothers do.

Wyanita

In 3 weeks, my cousin is getting married, and I sort of made my sisters a promise that I would fly back out to Winnipeg for the wedding. The wedding is in 3 weeks (08/08/08) and I have no money, so I came up with a plan. I am leaving on the evening of the 5th and hitch-hiking out west, hopefully I am able to thumb down someone "yellowheading" it out all the way, that would make it so much easier. It seems I always get myself into these situations, being a man of honour. I have work booked off until the 11th, which is not a lot of time. I told my boss that I'd be heading out for an adventure on the road and she just asked me if I was sure it was the best idea. I told her that I knew it wasn't, but I made a promise.
I am going to be honest, I am afraid. The last time I did something like this, I had just finished reading Kerouac's On The Road and not unlike ol' Sal, I was really excited to head out to meet someone that I had heard about in letters, and through mutual friends, and just like ol' Sal, I grabbed a bag full of clothes, and 50 dollars. I didn't really think about the fact that 50 dollars in 1947 and 50 dollars in 2003 were not actually the same thing. It was both horrible, and incredible at the same time, which is a lot to take, if you sit down and think about it. Unfortunately, I didn't take much time to sit down and think about anything the last time I left, which left me feeling slightly crazy, and those ol' feelings are sort of similar to the feelings I get now when i think about what I've got to do in a little less than three weeks.
This whole wedding situation is actually making my stomache shake in the same way that it shakes when I climb really tall buildings (or trees, or bridges, or cliffs) and look down, I have no idea how I am going to get myself out of this. I don't even know what to bring as a wedding present, because other than a few "hey, cuz" posts on walls, my cousin and I haven't talked since we were 9 years old, and even then, it was just about stickin' cards in the spokes so our bicycles would roar like motorcycles.
It's strange, I guess, how distance can make strangers out of best friends and family, even, and I guess that is the real reason my stomache shakes when I think about the next few weeks.