I find myself coming to terms with each Kolkata memory...

... by giving it its own individual tear.  I will have an intense flashback of a person I was attached to, a place I visited often, a common scene on the streets, or a significant event, my eyes water, and a single tear (occasionally more) runs down my face.  For a few seconds, I stay perfectly still and hold on to that feeling - a heart breaking happiness, a tug at my stomach, a lump in throat - and then I let it go.  I go back to whatever I was doing (usually some sort of busy work at Zeeks).  
But when I say I let go, I mean for the time being.  It's never going to go away completely.  I know that.  And I defintely do not want it to.  But I can come to terms with it for a while by letting that one tear fall.  
It's good to have found a way to deal with these things, to have recognized it, and to have embraced.  It helps a lot.  If I were unable to embrace it, I feel I would go crazy.  I called the flashbacks intense; intense doesn't even begin to describe them.  For that moment, whatever pops into my head is real.  I'm back there for that moment.  I can feel, hear, smell, touch, taste everything that's going on.  It's almost like living in two different worlds.
So I embrace each tear.  I let it run its full course.  I never have, never will wipe it off.  Who cares if someone sees me crying?  Kolkata taught me that it's okay to be vulnerable and I will never forget that lesson.  I need that tear.  I love that tear, just as I love 

I'm sorry that I never got around to posting a final entry.

Things got a little bit stressful when I got back home and I just have not felt like sitting down and writing in a while.  To be honest, I don't really feel like it right now, either, but I figured I should write just a little something.  Even if nobody reads it.

When I got home, I was incredibly afraid of taking a bus.  I did not want to face the reality that that bus I hopped on would not be filled with sweaty, smelly Bengalis, that the bus would not jerk me around like mad, that sweat would not  be dripping down my face as I sat there, breathing in the nasty exhaust.  All of these sound like bad things, right?  Why would I be afraid of having a nice, cool, quiet ride on the bus?  I don't know.  But the truth is I was terrified.
Well, I have a friend out in Northgate who I really wanted to go see and that required me getting on a bus.  So a few days ago, I faced my fear and got on the bus.  The first ride was not the greatest because not only did I just not want to be on that bus, but I also got a bit lost.  But on my ride back up Capitol Hill from Northgate, I was looking around the bus at the various people sharing the bus with me.  And I thought to myself, "My goodness, humanity is beautiful."  
Kolkata gave me that.  This is the most important thing I brought home with me from Kolkata.  I never want to lose this.  It's a beautiful thing.