And here I am. 1:26AM. Sleep is hard to come by tonight, as it was last night, but it doesn't stem from something being wrong. I've just been thinking a lot these last few days. I imagine I'll continue to for the duration of my time here. It's what I want. These thoughts, they go everywhere. They circle the tent-covered rooftop of my old home in Leogane, and swim through the reefs of Jacksonville Beach. They pass down the alleys of ancient Oxford, moving toward St. Clement's Street. They exit London Bridge Station and linger in the shadows of Southwark Cathedral, waiting. They carry with them hopes of a future, and fears that it won't come to pass. They double back on themselves to take bittersweet comfort in the bygone pleasures of the past.
My heart is more open than it has ever been. Such, it seems, is Haiti's gift. My heart couldn't resist it. And someone found it like that there, open, and pulled it even wider. She had to go away, but my heart stayed the way she left it. It's strong, my heart, and OK with being open, and it has reaped the rewards in the form of meaningful friendships, and moments of sweetness with beautiful people. It has found them in all the places I've been since I left my home in Leogane: Port-au-Prince, New York, London, Oxford, North Carolina, Los Angeles.
I'm very lucky for the life I've been able to lead these many months. I feel very much in love with possibility.
Mesi a ou, zanmi mwen, pou tout bagay. And for my three wild wheels, keep spinning. Por ti, belleza, un beso (y sangria!). And you, my evil Angel, a begrudging acknowledgement that I do, in fact, miss you. For my actor clown mother sister, thank you for being there for me in those many moments I've needed you without knowing it. And you, my bald beauty from the desk job days, I look forward to our talks to come. Abuela, you listen to me without judgement when I speak of things that make me feel weak, as everyone hopes a grandmother will. Y tu, hermano mio, you make me proud - you're the reason I'm happy to be here now. And for you who lingers in my past, my present, my future, for you who pulled wider this open heart of mine, as then, and now, and always, anpil.