when the rains finally came, the last thing i wanted was to get wet

my culture shock arrived like the monsoon. unannounced, silent. as relentless as the ocean. and violent, like a rip current.
i can't remember when she first made landfall.
my honeymoon eyes would have glossed over her storm clouds and the birds circling ominously against them. i would have ignored the red flags flapping like thunder in the wind.
had i been so perceptive.
had i been so perceptive, i still might have laughed her away.
i would have swam into the deep end, reckless, and let the waves have their way with me. i would have demanded her turbulence. and those first drops would have felt so nice on my skin, foreign and alien as they were. i would have danced in her rain - my present perfect, my past as harmless as a museum on a Monday and my future boundless.
but she never arrived with so much drama.
she crept up as quiet as the tide, as innocent as the mist. and it already feels like it's been raining forever.
and forever is starting to feel like forever.
and as much as I would love to accept her tears and sway lazily in that perfect storm, my soul has gone rigid. my mind is swimming and my heart is sinking.
so i will sit and watch her from this window only.
i will sit and i will wait and i will study her from a safe distance. i will learn her habits and she will learn mine. and only when we have come to terms with each other will we learn to forgive and forget.
and accept.

There is no such thing as a beautiful goodbye

I have never felt so scared, so excited and so ambivalent all at the same time.

Tomorrow night I'll be flying somewhere over the Atlantic. In transit. Exactly where I've been for the last four months. Or maybe for the last four years? Who knows anymore. All I know is I'll be heading East. To a new life in India. For the next six months, anyway. Or for however long I can last, depending on who you ask on any given day.

I should probably be more anxious. The truth is I have no concrete plan. Just a Mumbai arrival and a tourist VISA that expires in mid October. A late-night jet lagged airport meeting with the most perfect of strangers, some apartment hunting and then a complete blank slate of 'whatever will be, will be.' Some people tell me I've got balls. Others probably assume I'm just running away and are waiting to see how long I can last. Whatever. This is what happens when you stop rationalizing your life away and listen to your heart and your gut. Shit gets messy. You suffer, you cry and you do everything in your power to break free. You bulldoze expectations, shock your family and inspire complete strangers. You open your heart and pour out your soul. And the Universe finds a way to fill it back up.

It's been a long and crazy Winter. But now it's time to go. And not just because it's literally time to go.

There is nothing left for me to explain. There is no one left to convince. I will go into this new chapter of my life the exact same way I came out of the last: with only the best intentions. I hope everything works out the way I think it can. For everyone involved. Funny thing about life is it almost never really works out that way, does it?

This is the leap of faith we wrote about, Jski. The one that kept us up all those crazy nights. I never thought I'd get to peer over the edge of that darkness again but here I am.

Time to figure out what happens when you come out the other side.  

and there's many shades of black

I confronted my crook late last night.

He admitted to what he did, but not without a fight. An intellectual fight, that is. I guess I was half expecting a reason why. But I was also in no mood for a debate. All the reasons in the world can't excuse the act of stealing - especially from a friend. So yes, there was some amount of hurt that no rationalizing could excuse. I tried my best to make him understand that. I only half believed he actually meant the apology, which left a little bit of a sour taste in my mouth.

But I just got a call this afternoon and this time, the voice on the other end was truly sorry. And more importantly, there was some shame.

Shame is what really makes someone think twice the next time around. I really believe that. But I also felt the mutual respect that had been lacking the night before. "Thanks for listening and thanks for being so tactful about it," he said. "Just know that it never came from a bad place."

Cynical as I can be, it takes a lot for me to believe otherwise.

   

beyond repair

i have mixed feelings about going back and reading older posts.
the sheer output is impressive. but i also have this uncontrollable urge to go back and edit and rewrite everything. seems like things can always be broken down and simplified.
but enough about me.
wait, this is all about me. all about me writing for you, the invisible audience.
you know the dream where you're standing in front of your class and you're naked?
well, i never had that particular dream.
i have this recurring dream that i haven't studied a single second for perhaps the most important test of my life, only to discover that i have actually been slacking off all semester and that i am already way beyond any sort of last-minute salvation anyway.
and so all that's left to do is to wander the empty hallways.