...we let go of the hug, she hurried into a cab in rush hour traffic and I was left with a pane of glass window and my sister waving from behind it. For a moment, that pane of glass had the depth of an ocean - my eyes were welling. Crap. When did I get to be so emotional? I was always dramatic about goodbyes, perhaps a remnant of a maladaptive attachment style growing up? When the taxi drove off, I found myself stood directly across the street from the Canadian Embassy, the flag taunting me - anchored to its post as I am anchored to this island. Nostalgia. Longing. Homesick.
Sigh.
'Being seasick at sea is not the same as being homesick at home.'
