It was my horoscope, which I had found in a newspaper at the airport that morning. My knees shook as I took it out of my pocket again and again, re-reading what I was sure was a sign of destiny.
Don't fear change.
I had loved Europe, from the chaos of the un-street-signed streets of Milan, to the night I spent alone in the middle of nowhere in Spain (one of the most important nights of my life), to the cheeky allure of London. I loved Europe, and I loved Dublin the most. At seventeen, my dreams weren’t yet thwarted by the notion (or the façade?) of responsibility and I decided, reading this horoscope, that I was going to move there. As I got home, and as the days and weeks went by and real life crept back in, moving turned to maybe I could just travel for a while to maybe I could just go on vacation again for a week or so to maybe someday I’ll see Dublin again. That was twelve years ago, and the dream of leaving everything behind was tucked far under job contracts and hydro bills that made up the pile called Adulthood. Still, I kept the little horoscope.
Over the past year, I started writing less and going out more (thanks Drake!), and feeling generally uninspired by everything I saw, from the streets around me to the things I used to love doing. Then, one day, something truly horrific happened: I ate a Suzy Q maple-bacon donut and thought (if you squint a bit while reading this it won’t hurt as much) whatever. I think I just stopped caring. Around that same time, I took an unexpected trip to Dublin, and there, against all odds, in the most unexpected way, I found inspiration again.
This time, on the way back home, I didn’t let real life creep back in. Instead, I applied for a visa, bought a one-way ticket, and emptied out my savings account.
I’m moving to Dublin next month!
I don’t know what I’ll do there, or when or where I’ll work. I’m not sure of anything Adulthood-related, really, and that’s exactly what I want. Luckily, I’ve located the nearest donut shops and I believe, from my extensive research, that there is an endless collection of exciting yogurts in every grocery store, so that’s settled. I can’t wait to walk down streets I’ve never seen before, to watch people laugh at Irish inside jokes, and for the day everything starts to make sense. Although, with my favourite person waiting for me there, I think it already does.
Thank you to everyone who has been so amazingly supportive as I tearfully bid farewell to my downtown apartment and eventually, to all of you. I don’t know when I’ll be back, but it’ll be with you in mind. Thank you to my bosses for adamantly offering me ridiculous job opportunities to tempt me into staying – I will think of you when I am splashed by a bus going through a puddle or something equally as dramatic. Thank you, my readers, for laughing about Ottawa with me. Thank you, Ottawa, for being so funny.