Coming back to Iqaluit is bittersweet. I like it here, but I must admit, I don't have a passion for it. And after getting used to being around family and friends in the south (south of Baffin Island, that is), it's hard to leave them. If I'm starved for hugs here, then I was overstuffed with them down there. It was good. Refreshing. Not enough time to see everyone as much as I wanted to. But then again, there were a few people I was missing in Iqaluit. It's good to start reconnecting with them. It's really good to get back to work.
Today, I called up a friend I haven't seen since before I went on vacation. And she shared her bad news with me. Her and her family are leaving in the spring. She is someone who loves it here, wanted to never leave... but she doesn't have a choice. And so I'll be losing one of my closer friends up here.
There's something heart-wrenching about living in a town like Iqaluit. Most southerners don't plan on staying long. Some do, but generally, people move on at some point. You make friends, you say good-bye to friends, and the cycle continues. Today, I wonder how long I can continue the cycle... I hate goodbyes, I really do. But I told myself a long time ago that I wasn't going to let myself be a hermit just to avoid losing friends. Don't mind me, I'll get over it... I'll write something more fun soon... maybe some stories from my trip home.