back home - day 1

 i came back to the place that raised a version of me

i no longer am.


ottawa.


the streets remembered me

even if i outgrew them.


i retraced the old routes —

shoppers, the mcdonald’s runs,

the late-night pizzas with my roommate,

bus stops, Rideau canal strip to walk to school,

those quiet walks where i tried to convince myself

life was fine.


but walking them now felt different.


back then, i was surviving.

yesterday, i was witnessing.


every corner held a memory,

a version of me fighting for air,

for purpose,

for direction.


and this time,

i wasn’t walking as the boy who got lost here.


i was walking as the man who returned.


the new me

stepped into the old timeline

with presence.


every step felt like closing a loop.


i stood at the pier —

the water still, the air sharp,

silence wrapping around me like truth.


i turned to take the picture.


and for the first time,

the universe didn’t show me where I was.


it reflected who I’ve become.


no nostalgia, no ache.

just gratitude.


i didn’t come back to relive anything.


i came back to reclaim it.


to walk through memory lane

with a heart no longer heavy.


and in that photo —

in that reflection —

i saw it:


the version of me who once drowned here

is the same one who learned how to breathe.


and the man holding the camera now?


he’s not running anymore.


he’s home.


— Mr. Mak


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