It Wasn’t All A Dream

It Wasn’t All A Dream

This week I did something extremely spontaneous, which is slightly out of character for myself. I was meeting up with one of my childhood friends for dinner at Cactus Club in YaleTown to catch up. We talked and talked about school, work, family, and boys! I’m only roughly a year and a half older than her, but we both grew up in the same town on Vancouver Island. Our parents were family friends long before she was born, so we too remained friends over the years even after she moved to Nanaimo. We don’t see each other much at all anymore, but when we do it feels as if we’re just old friends catching up.

When we talked about meeting up, she initially invited me over to her apartment after dinner, and even though I wanted to, I declined due to having a 10:30 class at Harbour Centre the next morning. With that being said, we had such a wonderful time reminiscing about the last couple of years that she was able to convince me to come over for a little bit. 

I was in absolute awe when I walked in the doors of her apartment. I ran around the spacious place like a kid in a candy store. She had so much freedom- her own bedroom, her own bathroom, her own view… It was absolutely gorgeous! We sat on her couch and talked about the last time we met up and where we were in our lives back then. Looking back, it was two Christmases ago… I had just finished my midterms and headed to Nanaimo to visit my ex-boyfriend. That day, I had an eye doctor appointment and her mom had to pick me up from the appointment because my ex couldn’t (that’s another story). I call her mom, “Aunty Nichole” because she really is like family to me. She took me to her house and offered me food and access to her Netflix account until the kids came home. Right after, I hopped into her daughter’s car and she drove me back to my ex’s house, and I realized how bad of an example I was setting for my friend. At that moment, she was taking care of me which felt strange because I was the older of the two. 

Back to present time on the couch, it was pushing nearly 10 o’clock and I was about to head out since SFU is quite the trek, and I had plans to hit the gym the next morning before class. Instead of taking the train and the bus, she invited me to stay the night at her place.

I gave it a couple minutes of thought as I’m not the best on-hand decision maker and this isn’t something I would say yes to on the fly, but I decided to give the sleepover the greenlight. For up to 15 minutes after my decision, I debated on if I should go home, but then I asked myself why? I always wanted to be more spontaneous and she was giving me a perfect opportunity, so eventually I settled in and we really got to hanging out. This is what I love about my friend, is that with her everything is happening in the moment, she’s definitely one of my most bubbly, and free willed friends. I was completely inspired by her, we ran around the apartment with green face masks on our faces, eventually heading down to the gym and putting in a quick session (five minutes to be exact), before we went back to her place.

It was getting late, so she escorted me to her bathroom and gave me a tour of all her self-care products. It was absolutely extravagant, I felt like I was being completely taken care of, and all my stress melted away. I told her I was just going to have a “power shower” which is what I’m used to, but she said, “No. You’re going to get in that shower and take your time and use every product. Don’t come out until you’re done.” I felt so incredibly welcomed and cared for, she reminded me a lot of Aunty Nichole at that moment. So there I was, about 15 minutes longer than one of my normal showers, I came out feeling as if I had gone to a five star spa. She reminded me that it was okay to take time for myself, and that I should do it more regularly. I saw how happy she was, and decided that I needed to take note of that after our night together.

When it was time for bed, I offered to sleep on the couch but she insisted that I sleep with her, like we used to do when we were kids. So I laid there, staring out her floor to ceiling window as Yaletown stared back at me. It felt like it was all a dream, we had always talked about what life would be like when we hit our 20s, and there we were. Two small town kids, living in the big city. 

I woke up the next morning in Yaletown. And believe me, it wasn’t all a dream.

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