I'm Finally Here

I feel indifferent. Is it because I have played this scene time and time again in my mind? Why am I not feeling overwhelmed? Is it a script written for me and one that I have memorized?

I set foot on Japan in the Narita International Airport. All I know about Japan is Naruto, sushi, geisha and hentai. For a moment, I wonder what I am to do now. I have never been in a flight that had to transit at places. I follow the crowd, and eventually find the American Airlines counter. I get my new ticket to Dallas.

With a couple of hours to waste, I walk around the transit area to look for food. As I slowly start to look around, I'm astonished by how expensive things are. I get a bun and bottle of juice and settle down beside a window. As I stare out at the planes taking off, I try to take a step back and think about what's happening.

Honestly, I don't know what to feel. Am I supposed to be sad that I'm leaving my family behind? Am I supposed to be overwhelmingly happy that I'm on my way to living my dream? I feel weird about how normal all of this feels. Why am I not tearing or jumping out of joy?

I take that time to read the messages on my phone and to update my family and friends on my whereabouts. I feel touched looking at what my friends have posted on social media about me. Encouraging words fill my silent voice as I recall how lucky I am to have these wonderful people around me.

My mum texts me about how everyone is feeling my absence at home. She tells me that my brother is still crying thinking about me. He probably felt depressed that that source of comfort was no longer in his room. My sister texts me about how she misses me as well. She might not show it out, but I know my sister well, just like how I know my entire family. My parents, who have had me by their side for 20 years, must be feeling heavy with my absence around my house. You know something big has happened when your parents text you in a different tone than they used to.

And then my emotions return to the other silent voice at home. I wonder what he is doing now. Was he looking for me when my parents returned home? Is he still waiting for me to come downstairs to take him for a walk? Is he waiting for a belly rub? As tiny drops of tears form around my eyelid, I shrug it off and decide to board my next flight.

The journey is taking too long. I've lost count of time. I wake up from a long sleep, facing the clear blue skies as the Boeing flight glides over the clouds. I'm lucky to have gotten a window seat. Soon, I see some piece of land. It must be California, I think.

I touchdown in Dallas at the sight of the burning sun. Expected. It's Texas anyway, the land of cowboys and outlaws and deserts. My hungry tummy leads me to a McDonalds. When I look at the menu, I realize that I'm actually in alien land.

I take a step back and try hard to decide what those words even mean. The menu is completely different. Why don't they have McChicken? All this while, I thought McChicken was the universal McD food item. I decide on a burrito and settle at one of the tables.

Again, I realize how indifferent I feel in this new place. It's an entirely new surrounding, completely different people, totally different atmosphere. But, it's as if I am meant to be here at this exact moment. I know I'm far, far away from home, but this doesn't feel so different from home. I see all the Americans walking past me, a scene that I've acted in before, and I feel that this is my perfect role.

A couple of hours later, I'm on a smaller plane, en route to the North East. I try to kill time on the plane because I'm sick of sleeping. And, I don't wanna fall asleep because then I would miss out on the meals. So, I flip through some magazines, but I find nothing interesting there. And so, I do resort to what I do best-observing.

I observe how the people around me are so different. By now, I decide to give up on trying to decipher why I don't feel the huge changes I'm going through. I see new people who speak using the American accent, I find my love in cran-apple juice. Then, I notice something different about the stewardesses.

They're really friendly. That's an innate American trait, but what catches my attention more is how these stewardess are not hot or pretty or have their faces stuffed with make up. They're average looking, not too young or old, and are dressed rather simple. This feels like how I like the world to be-non discriminatory. The first time I feel like I'm in Utopia.

I finally land in the Logan International Airport. The moment I step out of the airport, reality hits me right away. It's always been this way since I was a young boy. I've replayed this scene many times in my head, so much so it feels like I'm acting out what I practiced. My childhood dream is waiting for me somewhere out there. I'm finally living the American dream - my American Dream!