The people gather and they say, “They say you are the severed one.” And the man laughs for indeed he has been severed.

So I am free. But I trade one wait for another. The weight of this wait seems much lighter. An opportunity to possibly work for a short time in India. The details remain, but this may be another opportunity that I cannot pass up. So now I wait again.

And the people gather and they say, “They say you are the severed one.” And the man admits that he is somewhat disconnected.

I’m still sick and trying to spend time with friends. Like all transitions this is an ending and a beginning. I am happy and sad. But the sadness is the sweet sadness. The kind that makes you know that happiness cannot possibly be the sole purpose of life. And I am lost in the best way possible. The feeling of disbelief while at the same time I find myself disconnecting. I can only be thankful for the instances I’ve had.

And the people gather and they say, “They say you are the severed one.” But the man is not the only one.

Other friends are leaving too. And some have already left. And even the friends that aren’t leaving are severed all the same. Guilt and a random thought that it was religion that made me such a morbid kid.

And the people gather and they say, “They say you are the severed one.” But the man has all his limbs.

When I first came to San Diego it was the first time in my life that I had no idea what lay before me. There was no graduation to look forward to. There was no college to get into and I already had the new job. I still don’t know what lies before me. But I will leave with so much. No longer the fear of getting old. No longer the fear of having kids. So many friends. Life will go on. There are more people to meet. More people to infect. More people to be infected by.

And the people gather and they say, “They say you are the severed one.” But the man was free before. He just set his freedom aside to live life for a time.

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