Nothing had changed, I quietly remarked to myself.
Once again, I prepared to depart from a country that I weakly regarded as home. It alienated me constantly, and the efforts that I made to navigate it had benefits: I had continued to develop a sure stride, had become more incisive to dismantle those who refused the relevancy of any rules. I had learned the manner in which I loved at least one thing about most individuals that I encountered, even though I was slower to cement these changes, when it came to understanding people’s perceptions of myself (and I mean on the less-formalized, gut level… the formal aspect of my understanding other people’s thought processes was polite enough to wait for the rest of me). I read the wrong information out of the world, I interpreted it for a while as what I still call an Unrequited Love of the World, when describing the mostly illogical feeling.
Once again, I prepared to depart from a country that I weakly regarded as “home.” I’d sifted through objects, and seen a branching out of several possible lives that aren’t the one I’m living out, now. The resiliency that I’d built up over those 10 years ensured that I’d finally go ahead and go for medical school.
Once more, I prepared to head to medical school, dislodging me from even the debate on where I could be at “home.” The consequences of this eventually took me to an island.
I found my gate within… I counted the steps. 53 normal strides: The gate was rather close to where I’d entered the terminal. I made two calls… and then stared at my phone.
I wanted to say t-… I shut my phone off.
Once more, I prepared to go somewhere else, but I was more sure of my goals, because they were within my grasp. That was “home” enough, for me.
As a result, I had developed a certain internal rapport… I knew when I could express a lot of things in one sentence, to myself:
I was past a Point of No Return: There was no chance of me bringing the Bat Gauntlet with me to the island, anymore.