While my journey had been inward-focused, I now viscerally felt what the support of others could do
Utterly drained and exhausted, I sat down a park bench. My phone’s battery, too, was gone. The weather was balmy and I lay my head down. Feelings roiled inside, my own inner sky full of clouds; anger, rage, sadness, apathy. In the grip of so many emotions, I couldn’t spare a thought to consider how dangerous it was to sleep on a park bench for the night. Drowning in my own sky, I succumbed to sleep.
Come morning, I walked away from the bench and saw another person claiming it for himself and his tattered bags. Clearly a homeless guy. Was that who I was, too?
I worked up the courage to walk into a convenience store and ask for a charger. I charged my phone and with a sinking heart, called my father.
“I’m in Los Angeles,” I said.
He didn’t ask why or what. Woodenly he said, “I’m booking you a flight back to New Jersey, you’ll go back to yeshivah.”
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