THE VISION IS A PLACE | ✓ {complete}

Chapter 55 : Saturday, the first part

    It's finally here.

Noah didn't seem all that nervous when I saw him this morning. It could have been because it was still dark and he'd just woken up, but to me it looked like he was hit with the same sort of fatalistic calm that used to hit me. It takes a lot of energy to decide to leave something. The reprieve that can come once a mind is finally made up, can be almost euphoric in the wake of the turmoil leading up to it.

That's how people can keep it together so convincingly in times like these, and it's why when they disappear, the ones left behind say things like: 'But they were so happy', or 'I just saw them this morning, they seemed fine...'.

It's because, for the first time in a long while, they were allowed to dream of something else, and that single decision to leave has made their world instantly bigger. The excitement, as unexpected as it is, that comes with finally being able to see a finish line on the horizon is a mechanism of survival; a way to camouflage the anxiety. For me, it only ever lasted for as long as it needed to.

It's probably all starting to hit Noah now, seeing the truck all packed up.

I know what it feels like when you're the only one who knows everything is about to change. Everything is heightened as you look out over the place you loved, and the home you knew, and the people you thought you'd never hurt...

How do you look at someone you love, knowing it's the last time, and not tell them?

The best way I know is to check out and not think too much. Wait until it's too late to turn back to see the bad in what you did. But you're not bad. What you did might have been, but even if you hurt someone, it wouldn't make you bad...right? That's what Addison told me, that night on the motel balcony. I don't know if he was just saying that to get me to talk, or if he really meant it, but it felt true then, and it still feels true now.

I wonder if Noah will find a room like that tonight, somewhere safe. I wasn't the only one who pocketed some of the busking money; I know he has enough for at least a night or two at a motel, if he stays outside the city. There's no knowing how far he will get with the men. Will he bolt at a gas station in a mid-sized town off the highway? Or will he wait till he sees tall buildings? Imagining him in a room by himself tonight is better than imagining him on the street, but it's still making me sad. It's weird...he hasn't been truly alone in so long. None of us have. It might scare him at first, but it's probably more normal than not; I'd guess most people are very alone, too. We were lucky, you know? To have all had each other. Heath was choosing us, trying to make a family out of broken parts...and the crazy, or not so crazy thing is, it was working. For awhile there, it felt like the real thing—like we had always been together.

If he cries tonight, I hope he knows that it's okay. Even if he cries harder than he ever has, it's still okay. It used to happen to me that way. It doesn't mean this was all a big mistake, even though it might feel that way. It just means he needs to tell himself he's going to be fine, even if it feels like a lie. He needs to say it over and over, out loud if he has to, like one of Jai's mantras, if that's what it takes for him to believe it. That's where his strength will shine. He'll be strong, not because he held it together; he won't hold it together. He'll be strong because he held onto faith when he fell apart, even if it was only by his fingertips.

I know he'll be able to do it because of what he told me about his before life. The foster homes, the men who paid, the nights spent dreaming of a way out...

He'll be okay. He will be. And like before, he'll have to get up and keep going because he'll have other things to think about, like where he's going to sleep next and how he's going to eat. He'll be surviving, and surviving leaves little room for much else.