every time i travel i think of jon going to america. packing light because he has nothing he really wants to take with him other than comfortable socks and a decent jacket. living out of a carry-on bag. feeling disconnected and hungry in a way he cannot quite understand. navigating airports and bus stops on his own but propped up by a keen, sudden awareness of the world around him which feels sharp and new and which he isn’t quite used to relying on and cannot competently deploy or navigate. feeling the prickling needling awareness of being targeted and hunted down and stalked but not yet being tapped in enough to his becoming to do anything about it. feeding the lonely and the hunt as he ineffectually resists beholding’s pull. waiting for elias to call. hating himself for waiting. staring at his phone wishing it would ping. suspecting but not quite knowing that elias can feel his desperation for contact. suspecting and being almost certain that he likes it.