I stand at the sandy edge of the Pacific Ocean one last time

looking across Burrard Inlet at the peaks of the north shore mountains

as briny ripples of water and bits of seaweed swirl around my bare feet.

My heart splits open at the seams

a torrent of sorrow floods out of my ribcage and spills out onto the sand and

is carried out to sea.

British Columbia,

land of my second birth—my queer birth—

How can I leave you?

How do I say goodbye?

How can you let me go?

British Columbia,

your land coaxed me to unearth

a different person cowering inside of me

the land that invited me to imagine my queer self

allowed me let go of

who I was

and step into

who I was becoming

who I might be able to be

who I was yearning to be.

British Columbia, you threw me a lifeline and rescued me from

the grip of life-long shame

and gave me a place where I could

settle into my body for the first time.

You taught me

how to love a woman

how to love myself

how to love the world.

You gifted me the revelation that came with

waking up beside a woman’s body for the first time

my body pressed up against the softness of hers

the outline of her hips that traced the curve of the mountain ridge

that stood outside the window of the bedroom I rented

in a mobile home in Pass Creek on the outskirts of that small, pulp-mill town.

Then, those log cabin nights by candlelight

snowflakes falling softly through the open window,

landing on my eyelashes and

the creamy and naked skin of her body,

a land of unexplored meadows and valleys

as a full, white moon rose up

from between the mountains into the indigo sky.

British Columbia,

I am forever grateful for you—

your lands welcomed me

your skies mirrored me

your mountains called out to me

your forests embraced me

your rivers flowed through me

your wild winds purified me

your animals guided me

your soils healed me.

British Columbia,

the music I composed with you is embedded in my soul,

these songs ring out in my heart,

these lyrics are inscribed across the insides of my body.

British Columbia,

I will always love you.

British Columbia,

good-bye.