Another bump in the road as my body is lifted momentarily then dropped back into the car seat.
This is the third time it’s happened.
I don’t mean the bumps in the road, that’s been five times. I mean the journey, the distance.
It’s all happened again.
I was quite happy in New York. I loved it. The buildings towering over you. The mix of accents and people, so much culture in the worlds busiest city. I’m going to miss it.
Everyone I used to bump into. The friends I had. The sunset in the sky against the blocks of architecture. The sound the rain would make on the streets, the taxis rushing by. It’ll all be gone now.
It had been the quintessential essence to my life for many years now. But it’s gone. At this specific moment I can see the faint outline in the rear window as we drift away.
The only thing I was leaving with was my camera, photos and the numerous memories which nobody could take away.
I gave each friend a picture of me and then, a remembrance of one day possibly crossing paths once again in this globe of exhaustion.
The feeling was like having your heart ripped from your chest. Then left marines on an island with nothing but sand and water. My life had become extinguished and I a shell of what I once was. I never wanted this to happen. I fought for it to not, but them, the pair demanded it for purposes of their own.
The one thing I’d received was from a close friend, an individual of such hilarity and goodness in their heart. They have me a rubric list of dos and donts.
The top one being, don’t imitate the accent, I’m not promising anything.
Now the faint line had evaporated. Dissipated from the horizon and like a fleeting memory, gone.
I was now on the steady course of migration to a foreign land. With no friends, no communication, no life.