Celebrating the New Year in Vancouver

I’ve boarded my sixteenth flight in the span of a year, and, this time, it was Vancouver. It’s funny how one’s high time (literally because I’m flying right now) can be someone else’s lowest. I have friends who could not wait for 2015 to be over because of uncontrollable tragedies and regrets. Strangely, unlike them, this year, I have been on a constant euphoria. I’ve done everything and so much more. And now I’ve embarked on my fifth trip out of the city in less than ten months. I’ve traveled with students, colleagues, family, strangers, and alone. I’ve cried upon leaving some behind but celebrated new bonds.

This feels uneasy to say out loud but there has always been a lingering feeling of someone watching over me. Someone greater, someone with the power to change times of highs and lows. But with that said, life has proven time and time again that high times only serve as a warning for the crashing lows.

With a very bittersweet void that is my anatomic excuse for a beating heart, I bid farewell to 2015 that has taught me to be myself more than any other. 2015 proved to be the oversized sweater my mum bought me hoping I’d grow into it in a couple of years. Well, guess what ma, it fits. And I don’t plan to stop growing, to stretch out these stitches until I require another because we were not made to be contained. We are aromas to roam free and welcome the new. Vancouver was another enlarged sweater that made me appreciate this, whatever this is.

To everyone who has been a part of my 2015, thank you for giving the most memorable year yet. I’ve not only grown professionally but learned tidbits of humanity from every cab driver to strange tinder matches to my travel companions without the comfort of a common language.

These are some of my resolutions to keep the euphoria alive: