Photo from @natrushofficial
In the sparing moments I had left with my life partner and loving husband in London I could not help but weep and wail in the public eye of airport security and passerby.
Nat and I thought we arrived at the airport with enough extra time to relax and have a reasonable amount of time to say goodbye to one another in a civil manner. I imagined that we would have a bite and a pint at the Gatwick Spoons. A pint of watered down cider to wash down a bad veggie burger seemed like a dream when I realised I would have to board my flight without lunch. I imagined my husband and I sitting at the same table where we made the expensive mistake of booking flights to Melbourne Florida instead of Melbourne Australia last year because we wanted to move somewhere we could both legally live and work.
Sadly, this wasn’t the case. Boarding for my £150 budget flight to New York City started early. I had to leave behind my film camera, jewellery making supplies and a lot of basic necessities so I wouldn’t exceed my baggage limit.
We were hurried by the flight crew at check in to get through security. I began to impatiently chug the posh pink coloured Rose flavoured Fentiman’s beverage I had so patiently waited to sip. The time never came so I was chugging it like a cheap beer. I choked.
I choked at the thought that I was about to be separated from my loving husband by Britain’s bureaucracy. After being married to him and travelling across the world together we have frankly forgot how to live without one another.
I began to pretend that I was travelling to New York on my own volition. I told myself lies to keep a straight face. I tried to act as though it that it was a decision I made myself. I pretended to move for a good career even though I didn’t have anything waiting for me on the other side of the Atlantic besides the allure of the unknown.
These lies to myself wouldn’t conceal the tears waiting to burst behind my eyes. I began to wail instantaneously and I couldn’t stop once I started. My body began to tremble and my legs grew weak. I thought I would fall to the floor but Nat held me up and hugged me tightly.
I began to remember the contorted face of my grandmother as she began to sob when I revealed my plans to immigrate to England. Between sobs, she murmured “Immigrating to America was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.”