Airports are strange little worlds, aren’t they? Between gates and terminals, time feels suspended. As I sit by this wide window in Cebu City, I can see the sun dipping behind the hills, casting this golden purple light across the tarmac. It’s beautiful in a way I didn’t expect — quiet and still, like the inside of my mind right now.
I’ve been moving for hours, days really, and now this moment of pause feels like the first real breath I’ve taken since leaving Sagay. I wrapped myself in a soft hoodie, ordered a coffee, and found a seat away from the crowd. My passport is beside me, and my boarding pass is tucked safely inside the cover — both proof that this is real.
There’s a calm here, and I’m grateful for it.
I keep thinking about how far I’ve come. From tear-stained pillows to brave decisions. From feeling stuck to now — sitting in an airport, ready to fly across the world. That’s no small thing. That’s growth.
The announcements echo around me in languages I know and don’t. Kids giggle behind me, a baby cries somewhere nearby, and the clatter of luggage wheels rolls past like waves. Life is happening everywhere, but inside me, there’s a deep stillness — like I’m preparing to take off not just in a plane, but as a person.
I took a moment to journal, to reflect, to honor how hard this has been and how proud I am of myself for doing it anyway. It’s not about erasing the past — it’s about finally choosing myself in the present.
Soon, I’ll be boarding. A long flight ahead. A new life waiting.
Oklahoma, I’m coming.
