I think I went a little crazy with those last few posts, though everything of what I said was true, or at the very least the truth as I knew it at the time. I think I totally broke down as I was fleeing the country. The night before the morning I left, I got to bed around midnight, and set my alarm for 2:30 am. I packed up my shit and I left to get to the airport on time.
I walked to the gate of my complex with my suitcase full of my clothes and gifts for my friends and family back home, which I had accumulated, including a wedding gift for my brother and his fiance, and other things that I knew my mom wanted, like those tea bottles with the filters, and a hell of a lot of my stuff too. I had a backpack with my absolute necessities, like some underwear, and my cute little stuffed gorilla, books and magazines, and shit for the plane ride; and I had my guitar, and my passport, and 2000 yuan (almost $300).
I walked lugging this super heavy suitcase to the gate of my apartment complex where I attempted to get the people there to call me a taxi. They didn't get it. I got pissed and moved on. My former boss from my Sunday school job had offered to drive me to the airport if I needed it, when I told her what happened the night before. I took out my phone to call her, and my phone was out of service...
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