C'ya On The Other Side

Part 3

You know how there are some questions that you avoid. How you skip over them swaying a conversation towards football games and school work. The sorts of questions that make your heart thump, your mind spin. The questions that your mother or father would ask, and you would never answer truthfully.

"How are you going?"

"How was your day?"

"Do you have any plans?"

And of course, "what are you doing?"

I blink. These lines always take forever; Australia, England, the USA. It doesn't matter, you always line up for a life time.

"What are your intentions of entering this country?"

The words enter my ears, in a monotone. It's one of those questions.

The eyes staring harden, as though x-raying my body in search for evidence that may demonstrate a threat. Lips in a pout, bored, tired? Creases characterise the brow and the straight back and uniform show authority.

"Work and residence."

God, those words feel unusual exiting my mouth as though I'm lying. My hands are drench in sweat, and I start to fear the idea of having to handle my passport again.

What if it smudges, or dissolves, or degrades?

"ma'am, you can take your passport and move along now. Ma'am are you ok?"

I shake my head slowly bringing my thoughts back to the foreign lands I now stand upon.

"Yes, Sorry."

Taking my passport in one hand and the handle of my suitcase in the other I make my way to the glass doors. The doors, which are a portal to a new world or rather just a new narrative. Either way, the first breathe I take on the other side of the door seems fresh as though this new world has already begun to grow inside of me.

Yes, this is how it's supposed to be.

...

I can't help but bring this back to impossible questions. You see underlying these questions there is a sense that they are trying to ask you the meaning of the universe or the meaning of life, when in fact they are quite simple.

By simple I do not mean easy to answer I mean the answer is easy to find, this; however, does not mean it's easy to communicate. You see often these questions hit someone so hard in the chest that to answer would mean to admit to oneself the truth and as we already know for human this can be excruciatingly painful at times. The internal truth can often leave one's heart and mind broken in a million pieces and maintaining form only through the mere biological processes that take place in the body.

To answer these questions is to leave oneself open to predators.

...

I wasn't expecting the slight vibration in the rear pocket of my jeans as I exit the cab, ensuring the entitle tip was payed to the driver. You see one rarely expects texts when you're new in town and the only people you know are drifting away to thoughts of sunshine and beaches and those ice-cream cones that never seem to hold enough ice-cream.

From Louise at 11:48pm

To Clara at 9:48am

Can we talk?

It's one of those questions. The longing I have to write back saying how I longed for her to write to me and that I miss her arms around my waist and the way her coffee breath reminds me of breakfasts on the beach. Yet, also to say no, that two chances is enough, that she should go and enjoy this new girl.

You see answering this question could lead to the rebreaking of my already newly repaired heart. It could mean a stain on my new world. It's the impossible question that I have to answer.

Fingers trembling, I being to type a reply wishing I could ignore her, wishing I could touch her, wishing I never knew her.

Wishing my brain was a mobile phone which could be turned on silent.

From Clara at 9:50am

To Louise as 11:50pm

Okay...

You see if a brain could be turned on silent the millions of nightmares I experience in the millisecond after hitting send could be avoided. I could simply switch off the tornado of thoughts that make their way through my mind saving it from chaos and wreckage. But I guess for now I'm left with the spinning spiral of thoughts inside my mind. I guess I'll c'ya on the other side my friends.