February 1
I booked a flight to New York for that same evening.
Yes, it was a bit impulsive, short notice, but I couldn’t breathe anymore and the minute I confirmed the reservation something in me changed.
The dread wasn’t gone, but there were also glimmers of hope and anticipation – light at the end of the tunnel after too much time spent living, or surviving, inside it.
I posted a story for my followers, announcing that I was moving to New York.
I got countless supportive messages, but I reminded myself that it made sense; most people in the world dream of visiting New York.
It’s not home for them. It’s not the place they escaped from, but the place they dream of visiting on vacation.
Maybe some think it’s just another destination for me.
The most supportive and meaningful message was from Keren:
“Oh my god!!! I’m crying with excitement! You have to send me a selfie of the two of you together so I can just lay down and die!”
I replied with a heart. She was certain I was going to Amit and somehow she knew I would find him; he would forgive me and take a selfie with me.
I was certain of nothing. I had no plan of action, I just knew I wanted to be near to him, in the same city.
Somehow all my other problems were overshadowed by my desire to see him.
What had once concerned me – how to deal with my friends and family after coming out, whether I would manage to go nomad again, the fear of sinking into the life I had hated so much, the fear of reverting to who I was then or, more pointedly, to hide who I was.
All these no longer bothered me, or at least very little.
I was focused on something else. I had a feeling that if I could find Amit I could handle everything else.
We could help each other handle everything else.
I was locked on my goal, and I didn’t care if the Thais slapped me with a huge fine for overstaying my visa. I just wanted to get out of there. I took a photo of the airplane steps before I climbed them and posted what was probably my last post.