Rush to Ottawa

Outside the window is a vast, frozen land, cold to the eyes, yet beautiful and ironically warming in the way it reminds me of a picture-perfect scene of winter. The sky was darkening, yet the white layer that blanketed everything seemed to radiate with a low glow.

I don’t know what prompted me to grab a light backpack, stuff it with a few pieces of clothing, and just board the bus. I cannot explain why, but it somehow just feels like the ‘right’ thing to do, even though I do not know or understand the reason behind it all.

Earlier in the morning, my friend had left to Ottawa for an appointment. Once or twice, he asked if I wanted to come along. I was tempted, but I never gave a firm reply. But almost as soon as he stepped out my door, I went on line and booked tickets for the 3pm bus. I guess I like to put on elaborate little surprises to make special people in my life happy!

And now I’m on that bus, racing on a snow-lined highway towards the city. My mind in a way is racing toward that moment of showing up at his hotel room. He still has no clue, and in my mind I’m thinking about all the ingenious ways of how to surprise him.

It’s crazy, and I cannot explain it. I don’t think I want to see him because I am in need of his consolation and support in light of recent news of mum’s ailing health. I think I want to see him, because he seemed to want to see me… or at least that was the impression I got. And I want to see him also because… I just want to see him, and be with him for however brief a time we can spend together.