Page 41 of Status Undefined
It hurt that he wasn’t willing to come to New York with me,but I couldn’t force him to give up his lifestyle and the work he loved because of me. And, well, I was leaving first so I was no less responsible for the breakup than he was.
I looked at him one last time. This person that I would have done anything to please, and left before I burst into tears.
January 14
(visa expires in 0 days)
My luggage was already in the trunk. Naama had unilaterally decided that she was taking me to the airport. We’d spoken about the apartment I was leaving empty, and I realized Naama was hoping Liam would come back and live there – that her boy wouldn’t stray so far away again. I gave her the key. She would try to sublet until the lease ended or I came back. If I came back. Deep down, I knew I would be afraid to return to Phuket if Daniel was not there. It would be a different Phuket, drained of its color.
Strange, but I managed to get three years of life in Thailand into one suitcase. I threw out some things and left the rest with my adopted family. I put the earbuds into my bag and the Phuket tourist shirt into the suitcase. I’m not sure why, I didn’t dwell on it. Future Amit could figure out what to do with them. I was confident he would know what to do.
It was time to say goodbye to Keren and Eli. Keren cried noisily, which caused a few people in the parking lot to turn their heads in concern. I was the second big brother to leave her and go far away. That made saying goodbye even harder. I hugged her gently and tried to communicate all the things that can’t be put into words through that embrace. She had tried to throw me a farewell party, but I had refused point-blank. I wasn’t in the mood. To my surprise, she didn’t fight me very hard.
“Remember what you promised?” Keren demanded.
“Yes. Don’t worry. I’ll stay in touch and keep you updated about all the cool spots in New York.”
“You also promised to post a story every day.”
Eli and Naama laughed with me. No way had I said any such thing.
I turned to my adopted dad.
“Have a great time in America, kid.”
“Eli, thank you for everything. You’ve been…” Now it was my turn to fall apart and cry.
We all piled into a group hug and then Naama and I were on the road to the airport. She played some cheerful American pop on Spotify to lighten the mood. The trip was short. Too short. Like the last few days in Phuket that had just slipped away. I had withdrawn money from the bank, packed up the apartment, and here I was. At the airport. Daniel had respected my request that he not contact me. It hadn’t made the last few days any less awful.
I almost fell apart again when I said goodbye to Naama. But she knew what to say.
“Hey, Amitush. Look at me. We’re not saying goodbye. Remember what we talked about this week. Go forward and don’t look back. You’re a special person, and no matter how hard it is for you to be without him right now, I know you will cope. You’re going to America to be with your mother and enjoy what that interesting country has to offer. You’ll have experiences and be able to decide how and where you want to live. No one can decide for you anymore. We’ll talk on the phone and come to visit. And you’ll visit us. I’m so happy for you that you’re giving family another chance.”
“You guys are my family.”
“If anyone deserves to have two families, it’s you.”
We hugged for a long time. Then she got in the car and drove away.
After I pulled myself together a bit, I went into the international terminal.
I looked for the check-in counter and, when I found it, a tall figure was there looking at me with blue – or more accurately, red – eyes.
“What are you doing here?” I asked Daniel.
“Are you going to stay there permanently?”
“Maybe. I don’t know.” It was the hard truth.
He looked at me in silence. It seemed like he had something to say, but he didn’t dare.
“Look Daniel, you were right. There was no destiny involved. Our mothers met by chance; we met by chance because of our religion, not because it was in our stars. It was all happy coincidence. And now it’s over. I thought there would be a miracle; I know you did too. But no, we don’t have a future together. I was just a point in time in the wonderful life you’ve made for yourself. Yes, that’s all we are to each other, a point in time.”
I promised myself that I’d eventually believe this lie.
“If you don’t stay in New York we might be more than just a point in time. I can’t risk losing everything I’ve achieved, after everything I’ve been through.”
“Maybe so. But aren’t I worth the risk?” I thought this sentence might remind him of the moment that defined us, the moment when he asked me to take a risk, and I stupidly agreed.
