As I return to the inviting brown and beige of Totem Park;
I’m surrounded by the trees — tall, unwavering, and seemingly unchanged.
Self-made anxieties hidden in the pages of my past journals flood my mind,
The thoughts of a boy who crossed the Atlantic, leaving his home and heart behind:
Chasing one supposed thrill after another,
Looking for the excitement of love,
Seeking any opportunity to make my rushed arrival here make sense,
Only to find there was no end to the chase.
Finding temporary solace in the excitement of a kiss,
A tangible connection.
Echo from the pages of old journals return, torment and nostalgia now enmeshed in the rearview:
“Perhaps through these lips my reflection won’t be so foreign.”
Only to be thrown back into this abyss of chaos called university life.
This vast empty ocean of zero-sum competition,
Consumed by the minutiae of unfeeling routines and schedules.
Assignments, deadlines, grades, applications, all these numbers that define our lives;
Stress as a way of life.
As the Vancouver rain washes away all the pain,
Threads of perseverance, strings of beautiful connections, and knots of brilliance work together to weave the story of my life before my eyes.
These obstacles were never obstacles; but forges for my soul. To mold and shape me into something greater.
The boy is gone.
There is only a man standing here today.
Now as I leave, I wonder:
Will my future tears resemble ones of the past?