The Point Of No Return
This week we will cross the point of no return. And I’m ready for it. In fact I can’t wait.
In my head it’s a bit like the cliff top that Thelma and Louise fly off. Mark and I will hold hands, put our foot to floor and accelerate into the unknown from Wednesday.
We have our visa interview. It’s hopefully a formality to approve our application. We should walk into the embassy, queue a lot, answer a couple of questions and then leave with permission to stay in the USA. So in reality it will be a lot less dramatic than that cliff top scene. But it still feels pretty invigorating now that we’re sat with the edge of the cliff in front of us.
In my daydream, there’s nobody chasing us over the cliff. But like them we are choosing to go. We have initiated separation from the UK in so many small ways already that this next step towards the US feels like a welcome relief of tension. We’ve said goodbye to the “less frequent” friends and family. We’ve started selling our possessions. My career is over; I’m being replaced (sounds dramatic but unless I do something substantial towards finding work I’m technically unemployed). All the steps that we need to take to leave are obvious to us. We just need to go with the momentum and allow ourselves to move forwards. Somehow in the last three months we’ve switched from “Is this really happening to us?” to thinking, “Wow, there’s no way this is not happening”.
Now all I need to do is make sure I pack my headscarf and sunglasses.