I Miss My Big White House

Six months ago I said goodbye to my closest friends in a parking lot, a house basement, and an airport.  I finished the last chapter of my life in Fredericton, and started a new adventure series- to Winnipeg.

I traded sporadic midnight trips to McDonalds, with four-hour Skype calls per day.

Instead of passing notes with friends in my French and English classes, I write all over their Facebook walls- in my new classes.

Rather than Wednesday morning breakfast dates before school, I send lengthy text messages about how much I miss them.

In exchange for long conversations in car parking lots, my friends send letters.

Instead of gossiping behind closed doors of my big white house, I gossip on the transit bus-where all of Winnipeg can hear me.

I sacrificed living down the hall from my best friends, to living half a country away.

Six months ago, I sat in the backseat of a car for five days- regretting my decision to move West.  I wanted to go “home”. And sometimes, I still do.

I miss knowing everyone at university-and what they take in their Tims coffee.

I miss going to my roommate’s bedroom at 2 a.m. when I just had a nightmare.

I miss parties at my big white house, where everyone sits on the floor because there aren’t enough chairs.

I miss grocery shopping with my roommates-and eating a full bag of M&Ms before checkout.

I miss bringing a truckload of homework to a local coffee shop with my best friend-and getting none of it done.

I miss going to the gym-for the sole purpose of talking about the people who are also at the gym.

I miss dancing in my kitchen to One Direction and Whitney Houston, while my roommate unpacks all my groceries.

I miss buckets of dialogue on a Friday night.

I miss knowing who’s footsteps are walking into my big white house-whether it’s someone who lives there or not.

I miss the pile of dishes that my roommates and I never did.

I miss getting stuck in our driveway every time it snowed, because we were always too cheap to buy a shovel.

I miss finding friends who did shovel our driveway, because they knew we were too cheap to buy said shovel.

I miss always having someone there when a life-changing event happens in my day.

My new adventure is different.  And a lot has happened since I said my goodbyes.

Now, I have new roommates who I go grocery shopping with, and who also do my dishes.

Now, I have new friends to do homework with-and still, we get nothing done.

Now, I have new classmates-who I pass notes to and know what they take in their coffee.

Now, I have Sunday breakfast dates instead.

Now, I choose to dance in my hallway-to the Baha Men.

Now, I have a new coffee shop.

Now, I own a shovel.

And everyday-is still an adventure with friends new and old.

The experiences I had in New Brunswick are memories in my scrapbook. The people are not, because despite time or distance-they’re still very much a part of my life.   

Thankfully, there is always someone to take part in this adventure series of mine-whether they’re an old friend who lives on the other side of the country, or a new one who happens to be under the roof-of a different big white house. 

Advertisements