I suppose I’ve done the same in real life, too. It was a month yesterday I moved out of the apartment in Toronto I shared with my (now ex-) boyfriend and back into my dad’s house in Cambridge. Here, I’ve painted, decorated and unpacked most of my things to make it feel more like home again. Unfortunately, I can’t wait to move back to Toronto.

I’m grateful I have the opportunity to take a breather, to catch up on my finances now that I’m done university, to be with family, etc. But after being independent for so long, moving back to my dad’s house in a town where the only way I can get around is awfully planned, infrequent bus routes feels like a prison some days.

I miss being steps from the subway. I miss having everything I need within walking distance. I miss having common space that was more or less just my own.

Things have changed here, too. My little brother has his own life. My dad’s girlfriend moved in two weeks after I did. Many of my high school friends have moved away or we’ve just lost touch over the past five years.

Time just seems to pass more slowly here and I’m going to have to get used to it. I really hope the money I’m saving on rent, groceries and bills is worth it.