Cast Away

"I'm going somewhere," I thought as the credits rolled down the screen. But where? People will say, "Welcome back!" "Welcome Home!" Well, what is home? I've written on it in the past, but to someone like me who remembers nothing of America (with the exception of painful memories) and doesn't really care for the place, America is not home.

I just finished watching Cast Away. I cried. I cried through the complete second half of the movie. It hasn't really hit me like that before, but I can't help it right now. I am Chuck Noland. I've just spent 4 years on an island that I didn't want to be on. Soon, within 2 months, I will be sailing off from it. I've got that time to prepare to get off of it, and I'm getting excited. But when I make it past those huge waves that I must face before I get off, will I look back on my island with longing? Will I have tears in my eyes? Most definitely.

These next few months are going to be hard... Very hard. And I thought this year was the worst ever...

So...I'll see you. And you'll see me. I'll be laying on a raft, my eyes red from the tears that I've cried, and am still crying. I'll be crying loudly, screaming for what I've lost... for what has drifted away. My Wilson.

When you see me in this state, do not worry. I know what I have to do. "I have to stay alive. I have to keep breathing, because who knows what the tide will bring." Thank You, God, for the will to live, and for the surprise of life. Thank You for the value of tears. Thank You for deserted islands. Thank You for "Wilsons". Thank You for life. Thank You for sails. Thank You for wind. Thank You for breath. Thank You for life. Thank You for ice, and for glasses. Thank You for tears. Thank You for life. Thank You for the privilege of laying down on my bed crying for no reason, and then finding a reason. Thank You for life. Thank You for tears. For life.