Flor

One

"You're only twenty-three and you're going to throw your life away for what?"

"I would hardly call this throwing away my life."

I hastily shove the last of my clothes into my almost pristine condition white suitcase, not caring that everything is crumbled up. I have had this suitcase for just over three years and it still remains untouched. I am not throwing my life away. In fact, I would say this is something necessary. Something that I have been meaning to do but I have been too apprehensive.

"You don't even have a bachelors degree yet and you suddenly think you're capable of moving to England? Ay dios mio."

My mother places a hand over her forehead, as if she is about to faint any minute now. The dramatics of a Latina mother. Of course I do not have my shit together but that is part of the adventure. I am bound to make mistakes. I zip up my suitcase, pressing down hard to get everything to fit. It is crazy to think that my whole life is packed away in this one suitcase.

"I'm going to make a name for myself mami, you'll see. I cannot waste my time living in one spot. I am so tired of feeling unhappy and bored with life. I should not be bored with life at twenty-three."

"Waste time? You're only twenty-three! I love your ambition mija, I'm just scared to see these big goals of yours blow up in your face. It's not too late. You can still cancel your flight. You can stay here and help your tia at her party store."

As much as I love my mother, I do not think she will ever understand. That is exactly what I do not want to do. Do not get me wrong, I am beyond grateful for the path that this strong women, my mother, has paved for me and my siblings but I am not her. She endured the hardships so I could become something, so I could live life the way she could not. So that is what I am trying to do. I wish she could see that, or at least try to understand where I am coming from.

"I'll be fine," I sigh. I lug my suitcase off my bed and place a kiss on the forehead of my worried mother, "I have to go before I miss my flight."

I take a second to stop at the door frame and stare at my room one last time. My bed is neatly made with my yellow throw pillows perfectly placed. My opened closet is now bare, everything packed in my suitcase along with my trinkets that were once displayed on my white painted dresser. A few photos remain on my walls, most of the important ones are stored in a photo album but I left a few so when my mom would walk inside, she would still remember that I will always be there. I run my fingers over the etched wood on the side of my door frame. It is marked each year with my height. A memory that I have always cherished.

I am unsure as to when I plan on coming back. It is not like I am leaving forever, but it feels like it.

"Goodbye mami."

"Be safe, Flor."

With that, I was on my way to the airport and soon after landing in beautiful Brighton, England. Well, more like dreary England, but it was a good thing I loved the rain and gloomy weather. Any excuse to cuddle up by the fireplace with a warm blanket and cup of coffee was my kind of haven.

Soon after I landed, I hailed a cab. I was a natural, being born and raised in New York taught me a lot of things and this was definitely one of them. It was raining heavily so I mentally thanked myself for remembering to bring an umbrella in my carry on bag.

I thanked the cab driver as he dropped me off at the apartment complex that I had spent weeks researching on before I decided to spend my entire paycheck on the months rent. I stood outside, despite the rainfall, and stared at the building. It was painted white with greenery layered along the entrance pavement. This was going to be my new home for at least the next year.