Being home for reading week.. wait a minute. Being in Scarborough for reading week (because Brantford is kinda home for me now…) has really got me thinking about a lot of things. This hasn’t necessarily been the best reading week ever because
- I’m behind on my school work
- our original friend-group had some stuff go down
- I’ve been dizzy and nauseas all week
but I’ve also been feeling this sense of loneliness and nostalgia combined. It’s a weird feeling, let me tell you. I went for a walk the other night to Tim Horton’s and then to my old elementary school where I just sat on the swings, listening to music, thinking about what it would be like if I had someone to talk with. Then, I went for a walk during the day down my street – the street I grew up on with my elementary school on it. So many memories just started flooding back and they are stupid things I wish I had someone to share with. How nice would it be to bring someone who has never set foot in your neighbourhood down a random street and just tell them all these stories? Like, that house right there is where my friend Jeff used to live and we walked past it every day on the way to and from daycare and that’s super exciting for an 8 year old. That house used to let us run through and drink from their hose when we ran the Terry Fox run. One time we weren’t allowed to go on the east side of the field because there was someone in the gully shooting birds (is that only a Scarborough problem??).
The other thing is that I would love to be on the receiving end of that. I would love for someone to take me to their neighbourhood, walk me down their random street, and share these silly memories. I want to hear about stories from your childhood. I want to hear about the things you believe in and the things that scare you. I want to hear about your goals for the future.
Where’s my intimate moment like that?