It didn't hit me until I sat down on my seat and looked out the window of the plane that I was in LAX. Just beyond the boundary of the airport was a white building with a big sign on top that said "Otis." Oh my god, I'm in L.A., I thought. I looked around. This half of the plane was packed with people I had made acquaintance with in Orange County. It didn't feel right. This new life of mine that I took on with reluctance was too close to a place I still considered home. I felt lost.
Then the plane took off. A few thousand feet up in the air, I looked out the window again. Below was the blue waters of the Pacific. Far away inland was Century City. I thought about all things between those high rise buildings and this plane. Staring back at the city that fast miniaturized from my view, I feared I may never come back. The plane kept ascending while my heart went sinking.
That night in Park City, I began a sleep that would last fourteen hours.
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