Lost or Found? (bp coyle)

Sunday evening, almost nine o’clock.

I should be preparing for tomorrow. Getting the lunches ready, making sure school bags are packed, uniforms in order. Tidying up before going to bed. I like an early night on Sundays. Monday is always busy, the school run, back to work. Same routine every weekend for so many years.

Not tonight. Tonight I am sitting in a hotel room in downtown Vancouver, watching the Canadian traffic go by from my window. I’ve never been across the border before. All is quiet here, just the sound of the shower running. Mike could not wait to take one after the day we’ve had. All that driving.

Mike. A man I first met three days ago.

Who would have guessed? Little old, stable, reliable, dependable me. Who would have predicted that I would run away from my life, my family? And with a man I hardly know.

Run away to a new country, a new life.

Not me, that’s for sure. I never thought I was the type.

I don’t know if I have lost my way or found my true path.

I feel alive though. For the first time ever I feel alive.

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