How To Never Look Back
Early morning, January 2002. Emigrant Matt sits anxiously in the international departures lounge of London’s Heathrow airport. He has the stain of tears in his eyes from just saying goodbye to his two best friends, before walking through the security gates to his new life in America. He thumbs his ticket, and looks out over the plane’s wing on the most English of cold, wet mornings. He is nervous, but excited. About to leap off the cliff of exodus into the unknown of a new continent, a new job, a new city where he knows no-one, and where the simplest tasks for navigating life and language are upside down from everything he knows.
He has no idea what is coming, but he knows it’s what he wants. It’s what he’s always wanted. Ever since he can remember, he’s longed to live in America. And here it is, actually happening. He doesn’t have much with him. Just a few things in a small backpack, his trusty Doctor Martens on his feet, and a couple of CDs his friends have given him to listen to on the ride. The music will rip his heart out somewhere over the Atlantic before lunchtime. Money, passport, Docs, tickets, tunes. Let’s go. Everything else was scooped up last week, and is already contained, shipped and in transit. Like him, somewhere between here and there. Time traveling between then and now.
Immigrant Matt, twenty-five years his senior, sits down next to him, pats him gently on the back, and says hi. They instantly see themselves in each other.
IM: “You know this is going to be the best decision you’re ever going to make, right?”
EM: “I think so. But I just don’t know so.”
IM: “In time, over there, you’re going to find love. Real love. You’re going to start a family. Move to New York. Travel the world. Survive cancer. And meet some of the most incredible people. Many of whom will call you their friend.”
EM: “I feel it. I want it. I really do. But why is my stomach still in knots? Wait… cancer?”
IM: “Right now you don’t know any of what’s about to happen. All of it, all of it will be worth it.”
Emigrant Matt finds all of this hard to believe. The English skeptic within still burns bright. It will be years before the American optimist replaces him. He knows that the road ahead isn’t going to be easy. He knows he’s probably going to run into things which cause him to question his decision. A decision he still has time to reverse. What if he didn’t get on the plane? What if he just backed out and didn’t do any of it?
EM: “I’m scared. What if I fuck it all up?”
IM: “What’s the worst that can happen? It doesn’t work out and you just come back? Happens to folks all the time, right?”
EM: “I feel sick. But I suppose at least I would have given it a go. At least I get to say I did it.”
M: “Exactly. You’re going to need to keep thinking that every time opportunity knocks. Which it will. Often.”
EM: “What?”
IM: “That life isn’t just a set of rehearsals sitting around waiting for things to happen. America will teach you that in ways England never could. A life in New York will come knocking, sooner than you think. You’ll fall in love with Philadelphia, but the allure of Manhattan will be too great, and you’ll quit your job and move there.”
EM: “Easy there. I’m not even on the god damn plane yet.”
IM: “And when you get to New York you’ll drink it all in. That’s where you’ll meet the girl who’ll become your wife. You’ll think you’ve found her in Philly, but that’s the wrong girl at the right time.”
EM: “How will I know the difference? The good from the bad?”
IM: “How do any of us know? But with her, as soon as you see her, you will know. So will she.”
Of the few things Immigrant Matt had left behind, other than his Mini Cooper and his Playstation, he had begun to fall in love with a girl at just the wrong moment. A month before he was scheduled to leave. It would, of course, never be, but Emigrant Matt still remembers her, and he reminds Immigrant Matt what that will keep feeling like.
IM: “There’s a lot you’re leaving behind. I still remember her too, even after all this time. Friends, like most friends, will fade away too with time and distance. Visits ‘home’ will get further and further apart. But those who matter will always be there, every day. Over time London will be the place you’re from, but New Jersey will be the place you call home.”
EM: “I couldn’t say goodbye to them. Wait… New Jersey?”
IM: “I know, and you’ll never have to. One of them you’ll talk to every day.”
EM: “But why do I feel so sad?”
IM: “Because you’re grieving. You’re grieving for a future life you’re never going to live. You’ve traded it in for something else. Something brighter. More exciting. More amazing. You’ll look back for a while, but it will pass.”
EM: “Will I change?”
IM: “Of course you will. Although look at me. A few extra pounds here and there, and at some point you’ll start dying your hair jet black for the metal of it all, but you’ll stay the kid who loves loud music, sushi, video games, the movies and everything the world has to offer. That curiosity is just too deep in you. None of that is going away.”
Emigrant Matt looks down and shakes his head. He’s not sure if he should ask the next question. The movies say it’s always just too dangerous to know too much about your future. He does it anyway.
EM: “Will I hurt?”
IM: “Yes.”
EM: “Will it pass?”
IM: “Sometimes. And sometimes not.”
EM: “It’s going to be about work isn’t it”
IM: “Of course it is. But work will come and go. You’ll be lucky enough to work for great bosses and do great things, but you’ll also have bosses who you’ll loathe and can’t wait to get away from. But you’re not the asshole whisperer. Just believe that you’ll be OK, and know when to walk away. I guess that’s life.”
EM: “I know I’m going to make mistakes. God knows I’ve made a bunch of them already.”
IM: “And you’ll keep making them. I’ll keep making them. You just dust your shoulders off and keep on moving.”
The gate is being called. Boarding by groups has begun. Immigrant Matt gathers his things. And himself.
EM: “Remember Matt, you have nothing to lose and everything to win by doing this. So many people want to be in your shoes right now. If I had your time over I would do it all again in a heartbeat. You are going to love what happens next, all of it. Things won’t be easy, but they will always be worth it. Look at me! You made it work! And one day, perhaps much later in life, when you decide your curiosity about the world needs a fresh outlet, you’ll go back to school in Philly, and share the story of that time we met.”
Immigrant Matt smiles, and when it’s time to board, never looks back.
