I am back in Toulouse. The coffee is strong with no milk or cream, but the desert- so yummy. I found a little cafe for lunch. I am satisfied. I am avoiding planning my flight back. I must do it but my flight searches are premised with a little bit of fear. The type of little bit which in the past have unexpectedly morphed into a towering and full blown panic attack. I feel the apprehension in the spot above my chest but below my throat. 

I am scared of going back. I am scared of real life. I am scared of the crippling loneliness. Can I be so bold in my honesty?  It’s a self made loneliness. Montreal has not been kind to me in the friendship and relationship department. I learned too quickly that friendship is often the disguise of fraud and a simple tool for taking. I was taken from. More than once in more than one way, by people I still care for.  

Montreal is an impoverished city where people seem to surround themselves in the white noise of convenient companionship. Both sides take what they need from the other, but nothing is given. The anything given is simply the cover charge, the transaction fee to get what is wanted. I am afraid I may have become Montrealaise, in that sense. It’s a deep lack of trust mixed with a heaping abundance of need, poverty of any sorts resolves itself in the same way. Distrust breeds hardness, hardness looks at the world through a lens not much different than the way one window shops. People are mannequins, their personality, economy, beauty, and contacts are what are for sale. And often, what is not for sale is still on display and easily stolen-thus continuing the cycle with distrust. 

I suppose I should end that train of thought. I have curious layers to me. A deep cynicism hidden in sweetness, kindness, and naivety. They are each sincere and intrinsic to my make-up, but it makes for a confused world view. 

I will be fine. I will make it home richer (not in a financial way), and my sadness of having to cut short this amazing trip will dissipate. It is interesting how my first experience of 'vacationing/travelling alone' I was the least alone I ever remember being. Whether it was new acquaintances turn friendship or age-old friends and near family, my worlds collided and grew, filling with rich and lasting relationships, friendships not built on the commodification of needs yet to be fulfilled. Friendship which are just that-friendships.