I have a whole story about my journey back to Toronto. Right now, I don’t want to tell that story. It’s all adrenaline and fear and struggle. It’s played out.

I am sitting in an Airbnb facing sliding doors that give me a view of many looming towers and skyscrapers. I am tempted to brave the cold and move a few feet forward to the balcony. It is easy for me to romanticize the world on the 27th floor with a thousand illuminated windows staring back at me.

I am listening to “Long Walk Home” by Bruce Springsteen. I have been on my way home since March 14th and even after I leave self-isolation it could be months until things feel normal again. Change is here; like a car that has flipped, blown up and caught fire. It’s time to stop clutching the seatbelt.