Most of the time, it doesn’t even seem real, like I’ve been pulled to the back of my head and I’m watching a TV-version of me. I just haven’t woken up since I left Jess. We had six more weeks together planned. Imagine being told by the border you have no traveler’s insurance (when I do, but was not allowed to even look up) and you’re allowed two more weeks, not months like your already purchased plane ticket is set for. I was legally allowed up to six months in the “Great White North,” but endlessly fucked with by the most petty, insecure, non-law abiding border even Trump would shy away from… just kidding he’d fucking love it.

They took my ability to write from me like America NEVER WOULD, reading my articles aloud as well as private texts, illegally, on my phone.

I’m scared. I’ll probably go back to Canada with a passport, but when does it end? I’m exhausted from explaining my life story to them, and if it wasn’t for my 100% in love with one of their women, I’d never think of returning.

This whole border nonsense is so fucked. You judge people, apart from proven criminals, based on their actions, not their past. Canada, you cost yourself thousands in tourist dollars, denied one of your people, a hard-working recent college grad, her happiness. You insulted, belittled, and humiliated me in front of her. And for all those reasons, when I crossed the U.S. border to return home, I felt a freedom the Republicans wish they could bottle and sell. And for two nights in Washington with Jess, we used money the Mounties could have kept if they weren’t so incorrect on this one.

I tried so hard. And I feel like I came up six weeks short – not unsatisfied, for I was in heaven every single second with Jess, and I know we’ll be ok. But we had a plan, we were killing it, and we deserved to see it through.