“…talk of travel was a beginning for any person, but it had no end. Young and old alike knew it…” –Abdelrahman Munif Cities of Salt
Tivoli St
San Diego CA
USA
Greetings-
The day of my departure is fast approaching, and I’ve finally reached the point
Of being I am desperately, achingly, ready (emotionally at least).
In July the woman who had been the center of my existence passed away, leaving my day-to-day life with a gaping hole and wrapped in grey. I’m still nervous about leaving the rest of my family, but as one of my Sister-Aunts says, “You need to go. For you.”
Although Point Loma is a lovely place, and my professors and classmates are darlings, I hate school. Always have, always will. I hate classrooms and mandatory reading and writing and listening to my so-called “peers” share their opinions (I’m an elitist. I admit this). I don’t want to stop going to school, I just want to go to school somewhere else with different people for a change.
I’m tired of upper middle class white America, the famous “Loma bubble.” There are other people and other places and different cultures out there, and I want to see what I’m missing.
Mostly though, I’m tired. I’m tired of my dead end job and dead end relationships and being stuck in one place. I need a change. I need to be by myself. I need to grow. So if I’m being honest, I’m running away. I’m running in a truly dramatic fashion- fleeing the country on an airliner, but don’t worry Mom, I’ll be back.
Despite my exhaustion I’m full of a restless energy. It is the kind of thing that usually drives me out the door for a run on the cliffs or trip into the city, but this time that just isn’t enough. It’s time for me to go big or go home.
If my boss has to hear “whatever, I’m leaving the country in a month” one more time, I may get fired.
I have a plane ticket, a rolling duffle, and a leather jacket. Lets go already.
All the best,
B
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