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The beginning of a journey

Updated: Apr 10, 2019


July 13th 2011 my new boyfriend and i were driving towards the closest urgent care of our neighborhood.

My head was feeling light and i barely had the energy to keep myself straight on the passenger seat while I heard him saying "You are not going to faint, you are ok. Just keep breathing, we are almost there".


Last thing i remember before passing out in the parking lot was getting out of the car and trying to walk towards the clinic. I would have paid gold to be taken into someone else's arms but apparently that wasn't my lucky day, so i took a deep breath and pushed my shaking body out of the car. I woke up lying on the asphalt with my pants wet and and a little headache from the fall.


Two hours after i was lying in a hospital bed, happy to know someone was finally going to take good care of me. It was a beautiful, sunny day in Montreal - just like most of the days in this beautiful city.


Ten months prior to that day i was in Fiumicino's airport, waving at my parents on my way to the gate. I had no clue that was going to be the beginning of a new life. The plan was to do an exchange program in McGill University for 6 months, put together a thesis for my Masters in Engineering and return to mother land to live the rest of my life. That was the plan, but deep inside i always felt there was more waiting for me, even if i loved the life i was living in Italy. I had a boyfriend that loved me deeply, a family that was supportive and caring and friends that wanted me to be happy.


I really had nothing to complain about, but I couldn't get over my dream of traveling the world and live abroad for a few months. I always thought that traveling for a few days in a new place is different than actually living there, but my Italian boyfriend did not share the same dream. He wanted to live in Italy and travel abroad only for days at the time and strictly for vacation purposes, so this was my last opportunity to make my dream come true before life would take over with its "society dictated" schedule. After all, i had been dating for 4 years, i was practically done with my university career and there was no much left for me except finding a job and starting a family.


September 8th 2010 was the departure day to Montreal. I had been super excited about that day for months and now that it was finally there that thrill started to change into a slightly sad feeling...like if i knew that something was going to change for good. So when my mom asked me "Why are you crying? Are you afraid of something?" I could not tell her i was afraid that was the last time we would have lived closed to each other, so i replied "No, i'm just sad I won't see you and dad for six months", and with that strange feeling in my belly i lifted my bags and walked out of my parents' house.



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