So far, I've been able to avoid talking moving away. Then Kevin had to go do this (re screen shot), effectively bursting the dam. I spent a portion of my afternoon reminiscing over what we affectionately and aptly term 'the end of an era'.
Our sojourn in Vancouver concerned itself with worries and problems that in retrospect seem negligible in light of our new found status as adults. At that point in our lives, our biggest headaches were assignments and class schedules.
We lived our lives like lyrics of an MGMT song. It's especially true because Vancouver is so drug-obsessed. We talked about people we knew, people we didn't know and people we wanted to know.
I do miss Vancouver. Most of my growing up was done there. Most of my ideals, aspirations and inspirations were drawn from the professors who taught me, the people I sat and smoke with, and the people who passed me by on the corner of Robson and Burrard.
Granted though, I never did see myself being a resident of Vancouver. I couldn't stand the thought then and still cannot stand it now. Vancouver is very easy to be sick of. It's the perfect transitionary city, in my opinion.
Much as I liked it, I could not have chose a more opportune moment to leave. I left it at the height of my glory days: an apartment in the West End, the neverfuckingending snow, strangers on my couch and a well-stocked fridge.
To its end, Vancouver was both a faithful friend and a sleazy bastard. There are many things I miss about it and yet I can't say I am sorry I left.