weaving the quilt

He says let's go to Tunisia. I should be excited. I always burden myself with these shoulds and woulds. Well I am not excited. I am weary and anxious. I feel heavy with choices and decisions. I do want him to be near me now. I also want to fulfill his wish. He may be curious about the place. I got curious because I felt going to that workshop there will help me fight racism I face at my work. His gesture is welcome but I am scared.

I am scared because I am scared of travel these days. Dealing with airports brings fear and stress to me. I have the wrong passport. The wrong name and the wrong skin color. 

I am troubled because this travel would be about me. Well about me and about him too. I am scared because I feel I have other commitments, other considerations I have to make. What about that turkey plan I had for a while? That plan also came from so many different places. A chance to have fun. To catch up with friends whose friendships were interrupted by my departure. A chance to revisit our memories and heal the wounds of the past. A chance to have fun and relive my happy memories in instanbul. But importantly too, my family. How do I manage to do this? How do I get to see them? How do I deal with this pain of separation? 

I need to quench this ache, and I want to see my friends, and I want to have fun and I want to please the boy who managed to give some warmth to my life. How does one prioritize these things? How do I get to decide? Who do I talk this through with? I feel heavy, so heavy.