Learning To Live By Leaving Home— Re-entering Los Angeles After A Year Abroad

My take on “re-entry” for Medium’s latest writing challenge

There was a thwack, several violent bumps, and then my vision returned. I hazily looked up at my friend, who was staring at me, dumbstruck. I had fainted down a spiral staircase and my face was, as he described it, split open. I needed stitches, but we’d hiked into a snowstorm and as the 3 am winds blew on the exterior walls of the house, we realized a trip to the ER was impossible. That night, my friend slept next to me, holding my skin closed.

This event, among others, is the reason I spent the first 7 months of the pandemic with a tightness in my chest, internally citing “the staircase incident” as a reminder of why I shouldn’t be up to risky business.

My fear of the world stems from my well-meaning Midwestern parents. So, you can imagine how they felt when I told them I was leaving the country for an undetermined amount of time with my boyfriend, whom they hadn’t met.

In September 2020, I was riding shotgun in a cab that sped down a bumpy Roman street. Staring out to the haunts that I’d previously enjoyed as a vacationer, I was suddenly filled with anxiety: my year abroad was just beginning. The plan was to have an adventure and gain…