For the next few weeks, Mum and I prepare for our trip. I don’t have much time to worry about anything, as it’s all visas, phone calls, itineraries, Lydia Portancia panicking, and Mum packing and repacking about fifty times. Danny sends me lots of messages, and we speak a few times. He acts fine. Mum thinks I was expecting a bit too much. She says when I see him, we will just jigsaw together and it will all fit. I think she’s wrong. I think there’s something just not right. I think Zan might not be …
I don’t know. Yin and Yang. Zan and … Millie. It’s just not the same.
I get myself so wound up about this that I don’t vlog, and I barely sleep. It’s tragic. I also decide that seeing Bradley is a bad idea because I worry it might confuse me before I go.
Lydia Portancia tries to be understanding by suggesting I save all my energy for Canada. Besides, she’s “very busy with her other clients” like Erin. Who is now the spokeswoman for a spray-on hair dye. Lydia uses “I’m busy with other clients” like a punishment, but I can’t quite explain why.
Eventually, it’s time for me and Mum to leave for the airport. Rod and Mum kiss in the street, Loz makes a sick noise, Granddad sends me a kiss by text, Aunty Teresa reminds me to stay away from stagnant water, and Bradley sends me a message.
Don’t forget my road
With a heart.
I was right not to date him. He is confusing.
When we get to the airport, I remember that they are the worst places on EARTH for anyone with anxiety. There are the endless questions: Am I carrying anything suspicious? Did I pack my bags myself? (No, my mum did. Fifty times.) There’s beeps, random swabs, and X-rays. Mum can see that I’m nervous. She leans over and whispers, “Remember, we all have fear. It’s the management of that fear that counts!” She then organizes the check-in line and lets a woman with small children go in front of us. Everyone else tuts, but Mum doesn’t care. She winks at me and says quietly, “If I keep busy doing the right thing, I forget my worry. Top tip!”
When we finally board the plane, Mum goes a bit holiday happy. She asks for champagne before she even sits down and then, unbelievably, the flight attendant brings one to her! Once we’ve taken off, I settle down and try to sleep. I can’t quite believe I am 36,000 feet in the air. In fact, I try not to think I’m in the air at all. I focus on landing. And my hotel bed. In Canada.