Torn roots

I’m still in denial that we moved so far from home. Away from our friends and my family, from the places and things we love. I’m blindfolded and spinning in this Western province, and I ache for the sights, sounds and smells of our humid francophone city. I feel forgotten by our friends – out of sight, out of mind – and I feel little point, and less financial ability, to visit. I have always hated it here, and now that we have friends, I hate that we’re going to leave. I hate that we’re going to do this all over again within the next two years. I feel trapped, I feel burdened.

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