no more easy answers: what becoming an adult seems to mean. i'm sorry that i can't make everybody and myself happy at the same time. i know that comparing myself to the people i went to high school with is a bad idea but i do it anyway. i know that i am selfish and selfless in all the wrong ways, one when i should be the other and vice versa. i wrote once, that i would rather regret something i did than something i didn't do, but the truth is that one always entails the other. sure, if i stay in europe, i will never know what i could have done in canada, but the same is true the other way around, and i'm here, and i'm happy, and i'm in love, so why should i be worrying about what i'm missing there. i love my mom and dad so much, and i know that i only get one life to live, and i hate being so far away from them. i hate being the only child, i hate how much they love me because there is always this pressure, this knowledge, that they have done everything to have me, and will do anything they can for me, and i hate feeling selfish for choosing my way in the world, the same way i hate hurting them, the same way i hate that all of the complicated decisions of growing up are harder because of some random chain of events that made me the only viable fetus my mom ever carried to term, and some random chain of events that has led me to live in buttfuck nowhere europe, happy with my life, but far far away from what i always thought would always be my home.