She took it very well; it's difficult to criticize someone from going to university, especially when the timing is not terrible.

She kept asking me, "What do you want him to do?" and, "Where do you see yourself in five years, or ten?" or, "If you could be doing anything right now, what would it be?" Those are large questions. I had a hard time answering them on the phone, talking to her. I mentioned perhaps kids, perhaps a house, perhaps lots of outdoor adventuring.

D and I took a bottle of wine and two jam jars to the park last night. We sat on the wind-swept bluff beneath the flapping Canada flag, watching the slant of light shift over the ocean, the mountains in America lost in the sea fog. We sat on that bench, drinking the wine, talking about Victoria.

I told him that I do love this city, but that I am willing to leave it behind. I love the city itself; it's becoming home. But this city traps me, traps us, because there are no real mountains within a two hour drive. Because we're surrounded on three sides by ocean. Because our family is not here.

It's so hard to say how I'll feel about this in two years, or in four. Will I resent D for being dependent on me? Will I resent living so far from the ocean? Will I resent that I cannot have children until I'm 33 - not that I want children right now, but maybe in a year I will. Or, will I be so happy that D is willing to sacrifice a $35/hr job to be a student, that he is truly dedicated to making a change in his life and the community in which we live?

In the mean time, we've started deconstructing our apartment, giving away things, throwing things out. I don't imagine that we'll stay here, even if he decides to not go back to school. No matter what, we need to get off the Island.