Born for Leaving.

Born for leaving. For blowing in prairie winds, swept across wheat fields, past cattle ranging, wild ponies lifting their spotted ears, for whirling through lodge pole pines, up scree slopes. For every once and a while drifting over the pacific, stopping on shorelines specked with tiny crabs and leggy little birds. Born for flitting off when feet are itchy or life gets hard. Born to run west. Born to find new Wests when West seems the end of the road. 

I remember sitting in frigid grey Kingston winters planning escape after escape. Being pulled by heart and soul across the country. Much of my life can be split up in to semesters, I rarely stick to location or relationship for more than that long.  I was simply born for leaving. I remember being young, much younger, and feeling intense anxiety about leaving person or place. Constantly worried that what I would come across next would not fill the void of what I left behind. That all changed when I was 17. I went from a summer of clinging to my camp friends, to our safe little world on the coast, to being an 18 year old who knew loss and who was afraid to have it happen again. Don't get close, always be the one to leave first. 

I spent a few years faking attachment. Giving enough to settle quickly, make friends fast. Get into and out of relationships like slipping into a pair of comfortable worn in jeans in the morning only to find that the seam is chafing by the end of the day, sliding out of them, such a relief. Saying good byes got easier. The few that were hard were real. The ones that slipped through the chinks in the armour. Years were spent split in twos or threes, never owning more than fit in a car. Travel light and make a quick get away. The old adage of what you put in you take out being a stringent rule to my ongoing development. If it got tough, people caught on I would simply move on. Seasonal work was my co-pilot, semestered school a relief. I joked to myself about my 4 month expiry dates. 

I am starting to feel this fade. Yes, like the Canada geese that migrate south my mind and heart align with the stars looking for a move, an adventure, a change of view. This time though. I am at a loss. I want to stay. I am falling for all those around me. The laughter and kindness of new friends. I made the leap thus far, whether they knew it until now or not, to truly start to connect. To fight my leaving urges and to put down roots, dig heels in deep to give this one a fighting chance. I see more here. I see worth in taking the risk to stay long enough to care. Long enough to get hurt if it falls apart, when we all take on what we came to do. Graduate and move one. 

These words are probably the hardest I have yet to put down. The last throws of ego and pride, leaving just vulnerability and transparency. I write them I think because my first exams are tomorrow and I am nervous. Scared, unnecessarily, that if I really screw this up I could lose something this good. I haven't had something to lose like this in a long time and it feels good. It is challenging, knowing now who takes the time to read this and how far flung this little blog can get, to put down what I wrote. The thing is it is what I hold on to. Not any more.