I should have never left; my father had passed away, my only sibling had taken multiple heart attacks, my wife had substance issues, and the whole time I felt it was up to me to fix it all.  

   I quit the job I loved, packed what little I cherished, and by plane, train, and automobile, made my way to Nova Scotia from British Columbia, where after I laid my father to rest, and then relocated to Ontario to take some of the stress of life off of my brother so he could recover from his ailments, as well as give my wife a place where she could heal as well.
   I made a mistake, my brother's ailments, although real, were a bit exaggerated, and my wife found other options to continue feeding wants.  Now I have no job (complications from residing in a place with no feasible employment, and a messy separation), no friends (I never knew how much a person could change and the impact it would have), and in a depressive state, often thinking about how much I miss living on a mountain and the times I spent camping all over British Columbia. 

   I'd like to go back, get back what made me happy, made me feel healthy, and most of all, myself.

   I don't t need a lot of things to survive and be happy, the first time I moved to B.C., my wife and I left Quebec with $3000 and a vehicle of our cherished possessions. Bought a tent upon arriving in BC, and did that for four months until we secured employment and rented a condo (with three other roommates), even on the worse days, my heart was full and nothing could bring me down. 

   I feel old now, worn, and hopeless, no hope for the future, no reason to smile... except when I remember the times I spent with strangers, whom felt like family, where we would all come together and share what we had, even if it was just a smile and a laugh.