by L. W. Clark
After a while I got tired of listening to the stories. They started sounding like morning birds randomly chirping away. It was too early and I was in no mood.
I can’t believe these people are so talkative at this hour. Can’t they be quiet for just a little while? But no, they’re mostly women, and they can talk nonstop, anytime, anywhere.
I took a look back and there was a long line of about forty people behind me. That made me feel good. I knew I was getting inside. I was on the line for five and a half hours.
It was so nice and warm inside. I gave my papers to the lady behind the first window and sat down, waiting to be called for the interview. While I was waiting, I got so warm, but I didn’t want to take my fancy coat off. I had borrowed it from a friend and was having fun looking nice, pretending to be rich. I was freezing before but now I was freaking sweating. When I heard my name called, I got so nervous, but I stayed calm on the outside. The interview went so quick I have trouble remembering most of it.
I was one of the lucky girls that day. It was my day, my destiny. I got the visa. I was shocked and happy. I was so numb I couldn’t even express myself, but it was just as well. The people surrounding me in the waiting area looked at me in desperation, with wide-open eyes. I thought they would attack me because they heard I got the visa. Their faces pretended to congratulate me but in reality, they were envious. I felt bad for them but there was nothing I could do. We all fight for something. Some win; some lose. That’s life. I was the only one who was approved while I was there.
I couldn’t wait to announce the news to everyone. My friends couldn’t believe it. They had been saying that they wouldn’t even try for a visa because it was almost impossible to be approved. It would just be a waste of money.
Now it was Niki’s turn. I told her everything I could remember and gave her advice. I didn’t tell her about the brutal long line thing. I didn’t want her to freak out. She had something of a capricious personality. I even offered to go with her to cheer her up while waiting. I was becoming super-impatient. I wanted to make sure our trip happened right away.
“You can do this Niki,” I said. “Just relax, smile and answer the questions directly.”
“You’re right. If you got lucky so can I right? We’re the same. We’re the same age, single, and have similar jobs, kind of.”
“You’re in even better shape than me. Your family’s financial status is stable, so they’ll think you’ll come back.”
“That’s true,” she said, as she gradually became more confident.
But Nicki’s interview went south. She was refused. It was so upsetting I started to lose my happiness. But Niki became even more ambitious. She promised she would apply over and over again until she got it. She asked me to be patient and wait for her. Of course, I would wait for her. What else? I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t go by myself, and that was our promise.
Meanwhile, life went on. I didn’t care much about my future life there, or dates with the guys or getting a better job. All I knew was another door had opened and I needed to make an entrance, even if I wasn’t sure where it would take me. I knew I was going.
And then, one of life’s surprises: I randomly met a guy at a friend’s birthday party. He was much older. He was financially stable, had his own business doing something or other, and seemed interesting. I got his attention right when I entered the room. At least that’s what my friend told me. He asked my friend to introduce us.
We all had a good time. Even though I had been told that he liked me and that he was a good catch, I didn’t care. I had my plan and I wouldn’t change my mind for anybody, no matter what. I wasn’t looking for a relationship. I was just socializing, that was all. He offered to drive me home and I agreed. A free ride was always good. He took a few of my friends home too. He was more than happy to give a ride to all of us.
His name was Tobi. He was one of those people who could be a pain in the ass when they wanted something. He could taunt you to death. He called me every day and begged to let him take me out to dinner or drinks. Anything I wanted. He had money and connections everywhere. He talked a lot too. I resisted the first few times. I explained I was leaving the city and wasn’t going to date anybody. But he wouldn’t leave me alone.
I finally agreed to go to dinner with him, with five of my girlfriends. That was a really good time. He agreed to take my girlfriends everywhere. I’m sure he was hoping eventually we’d have a one-on-one date. One night after he dropped everyone off and we were alone, he said he wanted to talk. We stayed in a car.
“I think you know Alyssa that I like you,” he began, “and I’d like to have a relationship with you.”
I just looked at him and stayed quiet.
“I know you have a visa and plan to leave the country, but I wonder why? Why do you want to leave?”
I shrugged and continued to stay quiet. I didn’t feel like sharing the real reasons I wanted out.
“If you’re doing this for financial reasons, please don’t,” he said. “I’ll provide you with anything you need.”
This is too funny. Where have you been? Why is this happening now? Is this some kind of test, from the universe? Who says God doesn’t have a sense of humor?
“I’ll only be gone for six months, maybe a year,” I said. “I’m going to come back. Besides, you can always take a trip and visit me.”
He ignored me, and continued, on and on.
“I travel a lot, even to America,” he said. “I’ve been to New York several times.”
“Really?” I asked. “Did you like it? What did it look like? Does it look like it does in the movies?”
He noticed how I perked up and suddenly became quiet.
“New York is a magical city,” he said out of nowhere. “It’s a city where dreams come true. I know if you go there, you’ll never come back.”
I laughed out loud. So dramatic. I definitely wanted to see New York but I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about.
“I’m serious,” he said. “You’ll see.”
I didn’t believe what he said and thought it was just another attempt to get me to stay.
“Of course, I’ll come back,” I said. “I could never leave my city, family and friends forever.”
It was early February with its usual cold, short days. Days and weeks flew by, and Niki wasn’t making any progress with getting a visa. Over time she talked less and less about our plans, and I started to worry she would bail out.
“The promise. Do you remember?” I’d say with a smile.
“Of course, … of course. Are you kidding?” she’d reply.
And I’d be comforted, at least for a little while. Then I found out Niki had met a guy. I knew this guy, Luka. He was a player and liked flirting with the girls. She liked him physically and wanted to date him, for fun. She knew she couldn’t expect a long-term relationship with him, which was fine, for now. But that doesn’t always work for girls. She started having real feelings for him, which she was hiding from me. One day she called just to chat, like girls do.
“Hi Alyssa, how’s it going?” Niki said. “Any plans for tonight?”
“None, just staying home and watching whatever movie is on TV. You?”
“Going out to a club with Luka. You should come.”
“No, thanks. I’ll pass. How’s it going with the visa? When are you going to apply again?”
No response.
I knew the hesitation was about a decision. I hung up. I was devastated, confused and angry. I couldn’t even think of going without her. How could I? I had begged my family to let me go. I sold the only thing I had, and now the ring and the money were gone. What about my visa? Could I just ignore it?
My best friend, Niki. We were so close and tight. We never got upset with each other. We literally shared life. A real relationship. Like when two people know each other’s everyday moments, every detail, important or not. When they share good times and bad, when they call each other for no reason.
When they listen to each other, and feel each other, with support and trust.
My long, wonderful friendship with Niki. It’s over? Just like that? I love her. Maybe I never should’ve started this with her. If I didn’t then this painful break up wouldn’t be happening. What is she feeling? What’s her reason? I hope it’s not because of that Luka, because that’s not going to last. I don’t want to be upset with her. But I feel betrayed. Our plan has collapsed. I feel empty.
I never called her back or anything. I avoided her and she did the same. I needed some time to get through all this and think, without all the emotions. I lost my best friend. I mean, I lost trust in her. We could stay friends, but it would never be the same. It’s impossible to rebuild things once they’re broken. I hardly knew what to do next.
FIVE
March 1996, Eastern Europe
I decided not to give in or give up. I was going. I wasn’t going to let someone else’s choices dictate what I was going to do with my life. I reached out to Margo and asked if she knew anyone who received a visa through her and had plans to leave soon, so I could at least have a travel buddy for the flight.
I didn’t care who it was. I was already going to a place where I didn’t know anybody. I didn’t want to be alone on the long flight. I’d never been on a plane before. Plus, there weren’t any direct flights to New York. I had to change planes somewhere, and I was afraid of missing the connection. It was easy for others to say, oh, it’s nothing, you’ll figure it out, and I probably would. But when you’ve never done it before it’s a big deal. I could be a brave girl, but I could also be timid.
No luck. Margo said she helped a few people with the papers but none of them received a visa approval. The bad news was I was going alone. The good news was I was going, because I was one of the chosen few.
One morning as I was getting dressed, I passed by the mirror. I stepped back and I saw this girl, staring at me. I stared back, observing from head to toe.
She’s twenty-two, medium height with a slim, toned body. Slightly muscled calves and upper legs, that merged to an hourglass waist. A flat stomach and small pointed breasts, which fit well with this type of body. Long straight, light brunette-colored hair covered the shoulders. A small oval-shaped face with pouty lips and a small, slim nose. Her big, greenish-blue eyes were looking at me without blinking. I see her full, naked body, and facial features.
Why me? Here is this girly girl, and I’m torturing her. I’m asking her feminine mind and body to be a fearless, brave man.
I felt like I had two personalities, male and female. My body and real personality were feminine—fragile, delicate, with a quiet, good-tempered manner. But I could also force myself to be masculine—fearless, brave and tough—when I needed to be. I could drive myself crazy with this split personality sometimes. Why was I doing it to myself?
I had to leave soon. It was already March and the visa rules required that I visit the U.S. within three months. I asked Margo to reach out to the woman who sent the invitation letter, to ask if she was also willing to pay for my airfare, and I would pay her back at triple the amount. This would be a kind of contract through Margo. I needed to do this because I didn’t have the money to pay for the flight.
When I went to pick up my airline ticket, it was an actual ticket, with my name on it. This was when I knew I was definitely on my way. I got goosebumps. I felt excited and proud of myself that I had made it this far. The past was starting to fade away, and I was so looking forward to living my future.
I had an early morning flight. The days before should’ve been emotional, but I was so busy preparing I didn’t pay much attention to my emotions. I started to pack and realized I needed a suitcase. Nothing like the last minute. I guess I was a little distracted! We all sat down to figure out how to get a suitcase. All of a sudden my mom yelled.
“The yellow suitcase! Yes, we have one, it’s in the closet!”
We looked at her as if she’d lost her mind.
“What are you talking about?” I asked. “What yellow suitcase?”
Turns out she kept a suitcase hidden away, behind the clothes and shoes. We never traveled so she used it for storing sheets and towels. It was like a “closet suitcase”. We all rushed to the closet. It was a beautiful thing. We emptied it, cleaned it up and packed it for the trip.
If this suitcase had feelings and could talk, I’m sure it would’ve been so excited and happy. It had been stuck in a dark place for a long time, like a jail, and now it was free, and going on a trip! That’s what suitcases are for right? But I’m glad the suitcase couldn’t talk because there would be a lot of yelling at my mother.
When I first saw the suitcase, it was obvious why my mother called it yellow. You couldn’t just call it a suitcase without mentioning the color. It was bright yellow. I mean, really, really bright yellow. I was hoping for a more muted color, but I rationalized that it would be easy to distinguish from the other suitcases. The suitcase was huge. It was one big fat suitcase. It was heavy even before it was packed. The outside of the suitcase was thick leather with rough stitches and two wide, heavy metal buckles, and the handle was hard. But the best part? My yellow suitcase had no wheels! I’d have to carry this damn thing. Soon I’d have calloused man hands to go along with the male side of my personality.
My family threw a going away party. All my close relatives and most of my friends came, but not Niki. I thought she might stop by, but it was just as well she didn’t. I didn’t want any drama before the trip. It was a fun, warm and exciting evening. I was surrounded by my closest, most lovable people.
We had a big dinner with wine. We had meringue walnut cakes that my aunt made. After the cake we had dessert wine and cognac. As usual, after eating and drinking the crowd became noisier. Everybody talked so loudly and all at the same time. I couldn’t tell who was saying what, but I was used to this kind of “conversation”. These people knew how to talk loud and over each other. It was in their genes, I guess. They never seemed to listen or let someone finish a sentence. They just wanted to be heard, so the volume gradually increased.
Some music was playing but nobody cared. Fueled by alcohol, everybody thought they sounded intelligent and knowledgeable about anything and everything. Most of them were so excited for me. Some told me they hoped to imitate me one day.
“Hey, why don’t you go now, figure out what’s going on over there, and then we’ll consider coming over,” they kept telling me.
“We promise we will,” they said as they became more excited about the idea.
I wished one of them actually would come with me.
“Hey, who wants to come with me the most? I have some room in my big suitcase!”
Silence. Then a burst of laughter.
It was getting late, but nobody wanted to leave. People started to go home around midnight, but my closest friends stayed overnight. They were all taking me to the airport. By the time we went to bed it was just after two. At least I could catch a few hours of sleep before the long journey ahead.
I crawled into bed. I was so tired. All day I had been running around and my feet hurt. My body was so sore, and my mind was full of thoughts. I tried to sleep but couldn’t. My head was spinning. I’d have positive thoughts, and then all of a sudden, negative thoughts, again and again. My mixed emotions evolved into one big, paralyzing fear. My heart started beating faster and I started to sweat. I started second guessing myself. Thinking again about where I was going and why. I was leaving all these people I loved so much, and my home and city that I knew so well.
I was suddenly frightened. I sat up. One of my girlfriends slept right next to me so I tried not to wake her up. I stayed quiet, taking deep breaths. I felt tears rolling down my face. I wanted to cry out loud, but I didn’t let myself. All I wanted to do was give up, just cancel the trip and stay here. I was having a panic attack.
Then, one of the weirdest feelings I ever had. I began thinking, deeper and deeper. I let my subconscious mind take cont
rol. I let all the fears come in and destroy me. That’s what a panic attack does if you let it.
How do I escape this fear? How? How can I cancel this trip? Everyone is asleep. Should I wake them up? Should I wake up my friend next to me? Maybe she could help me? No, no. That won’t be good. Maybe I can make up a story. Something reasonable and believable. What can it be? It’s not just about the story. I’ll have to lie. I’ll be a good actress, so everyone will believe me. Am I good at acting? I’m not so sure but I’m so desperate, maybe I can fake it. I’m such a mess. I’m crying, and so sad. Maybe I should just be honest. They’ll understand, won’t they? They love me. They might be happy to hear that I want to stay. They don’t really want me to go.
I felt good, for a second.
But wait. What about my plan and my promises to myself and my family? If I change my mind, what kind of person does that make me? No one would believe me anymore. I wouldn’t even believe myself. What if I have regrets? Stop! These thoughts? They’re disgusting and so unfair.
I took a deep breath. I became aware. I knew what a runaway mind could do to your body and soul. Slowly, I relaxed and slid back into bed, and covered myself with the blankets. My heartbeat slowed down. I closed my eyes, but the tears kept coming, so many they made my pillow wet. I tried to relax but I couldn’t. Again, my subconscious mind took control, even stronger than before.
I don’t want to listen to it anymore. But … but … what if this is my intuition, telling me not to go? What if something is telling me to stop, and all these thoughts are for a reason? I have to sit up and make a plan. I should make up a good story and act on it. That’s it. I know. I’ll make believe I’m really, really sick. I got food poisoning or something, with a major stomach problem. I could cry and groan in bed. I can pretend I can’t even get out of bed. My face is so puffy from crying, that will definitely help me look sick. I can wake up my friend next to me first, and announce my illness, then she would wake the others. There wouldn’t be enough time left for me to get better, so I would miss my flight.