Walking on busy downtown streets in a strange city in a land and nation not my own with nothing to guide me, not even the benefit of sight, only my convictions.
Wading through hordes of people in a place so close to my home, but so far away,
Thinking of how my family will receive me when I return home, knowing that I've spurned their loyalties at such a beautiful place as Niagara Falls,
Picking my way up a cold, desolate, anonymous Yonge Street in persuit of family that I have never known, but share my life goals and desires,
I press on.