One Way Ticket

Alright, I started the first half of this entry the day after I had this convo, but didn't finish it until 2 weeks or so later, so please excuse the choppiness.


My friend, MIH, texts me and asks, “Hey Pearl, can you take me to the airport after you get off work?”

“Sure,” I reply.

After I get off work, I drive over to where he is, pick him up, then make a pit stop to my place, where more of his stuff is stored. I’m tired after my 8 hour shift at work. It’s a little past midnight. I sit and watch as he repacks/reorganizes and we talk.

“MIH, how much was your ticket,” I ask.

“Uhh, $150*. I actually just bought it while I was at ____’s house just now,” he answers.

“WTF? $150? Only? How? No fair,” I say in jealousy.

“Umm, yeah, I bought a one-way ticket.”

I’m wide awake now. “What? A one-way ticket? Why? How are you getting home? When are you coming home?” I’m bewildered. I’ve never known anyone to seriously buy a one-way ticket-- a cross country, 3000 mile, west to east coast one-way ticket.




“I’m staying with homeboy we met on New Years Eve, you know, InPhamy. I don’t know how I’m getting home yet. I’ll figure it out.”

“What?” I’m mostly shocked because I knew none of this. “MIH, you never tell me anything!”

“I don’t tell people things unless they ask. You never asked.”

“Does your mom know you’re going?” I continue.

“Umm, no.” he scoffs.

“Why not?”

He gives me a does-she-need-to-know type of shrug.

“Ugh, man, that’s not fair! I want to be able to just buy a one-way ticket and leave without worrying about being at work, paying rent—without worrying about anything! No questions asked…” I imagine myself packing up and going to the east coast with no worries or restraints. Then I’m cut off…

“First off,” he begins (he usually says this when he’s about to get buck with me… or anyone for that matter), “Do you think I like not knowing where I’m going to sleep at night? Do you think I like not having a home to go home to?** You’re lucky you have a family and a home to go home to whenever you want to. I don’t like being a Nomad***. I do it because I have to.”

I try to think of a rebuttal, but nothing comes to mind. “Well, where do you go for the holidays?” I know, stupid question.

“I’ve spent every holiday since middle school with a friend and their family.”

“Oh,” I respond as I sink back into my seat a little. “When was the last time you talked to your mom?” I ask, more lovingly this time.

“Mmm, I don’t know. I called her last week. She said she would call me back but she never did,” he says nonchalantly.

“Oh,” I respond again as I sink a little further into my seat because I know at this very moment in time, my mom is at home worried and waiting for me to call her back. (I was sick).

He looks up, and see’s me pondering what he just said. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my mom, and I know she loves me. She provided everything I ever needed when I was younger. Yes, we were always moving and I’ve never lived in a place for more than five years, [but I was never unhappy].” He continues on about his schooling, family dynamics and so on. I sit and listen.

My point?

He slapped me back into reality. I needed it. I needed to realize how very fortunate I am. Yes, I know I am fortunate, but every now and then everyone needs a reality check that puts things back into perspective right? This was mine.

I have a family who is ever supportive of me in whatever I do. I have a mother who has always been there to step in when I falter financially (as I do more often than I would like), but still loves me unconditionally. I have two older sisters whom I adore and who only want the best for me. I have a JOB, though I probably complain about it everyday, I’m always grateful for it, especially when I get that check! I’m in school, just one year short of my degree. What more do I need?

I was complaining because I have stability and wanted to “be free” from it. Umm, what? So many people want what I was asking not to have for themselves and their families, but can never attain it.

I'm blessed.


Thanks, MIH... but I'm still mad at you (you know why). <3 Oh, and btw, I started this entry over 2 weeks ago.. MIH? Still not back yet. Come home lil' homie!






* He later told me the ticket was $250, but I swear I heard him say $150.

** There’s obviously more to our conversation that I purposely left out. It’s not my story to tell. Sorry if there is any confusion.

***A nickname I gave to him because he’s always on the move!