"What's your decision?" a female
voice from the telephone asks, its expectant tone just enough to make me pause.
I sit in my office, phone clenched
tightly to my ear as I vacillate between two answers. I've gone over the
decision a dozen times by now, weighed the benefits and pitfalls of both...even
took a three hour walk to let my mind wander to places my feet had yet to go.
Each time the decision was the same. Each time I knew what answer I would give.
I start to speak.
"I..." Something stops me. Am
I making the right choice? Do I really want to go down this road again?
"Bobby, we really need your
decision. What are you going to do?" she asks again, this time less
patiently.
I lean back in my chair, the receiver
never leaving my ear. My feet are up on my desk now as I count the number of
loops my laces travel through to reach their destination. Fourteen...I never
noticed that before.
"Bobby," she begins again
before I interrupt her.
"I've made my decision," I
say. "I resign."
One year, eight months, and twenty three
days. That's how long I've been at this job. Longer than any job I've ever had,
though barely an instant in comparison to most other men. My intention was not to
resign, once again casting myself into the perils of an all too perilous labor
market. The memories of my previous sojourn to the unemployment line left a
sting upon my pride that has not soon been forgotten. Countless applications
for menial work coupled with an extended period of living back home is, I dare
say, a burden that renders any task more enviable. But with the shuttering of
our office here in Birmingham, I was given the choice of either continuing my
employment for another year in Atlanta or resigning outright and accepting a
severance package. My options were clear; my decision was not. I ultimately
choice the latter option, deciding to close this chapter of my life to once
again start anew. It is a familiar routine by now, but one whose further
acclimation only serves to facilitate impermanence. I'll pack up again, fitting
my world into an old Chevrolet Impala to cruise down life's highways. But where
will I go? And who will I see when I get there?
I thought of you when I made my decision.
I wondered what you would say, how you would feel if I told you I was coming
back. Coming back to the fields of Columbia to tarry across open plains amidst those
mountains of history. Coming back to walk through halls of freedom beneath the
shadow of that sacred dome. Would you believe me? Would you even care? Most of
all, would you wonder if a man would come halfway across the country just to
see you?
I am. For the reasons enumerated and
many more. For the impossible desires that only a fool would carry in his heart
for so long, refusing to abandon this one dream in the hope that it might one
day be fulfilled.
I am returning to Washington DC, to a
place that I thought was my past, but which I now realize was always my future.
And with my arrival I will cast my eyes high over the future's horizon, only
looking back to rediscover all the wondrous treasures that I left behind.
