I don't know if this will ever have a part two. But I needed to share this part now.
I left—not because I wanted to, but because I had to.
I left to live.
Back home, I was surrounded by fear, pain, and life-threatening situations.
I found myself at a breaking point. If I had stayed, I truly believe I would have done the unthinkable. That thought still haunts me.
I was dying slowly—emotionally, mentally, spiritually.
I felt like I was losing my mind. I didn't see a purpose in continuing.
Every day felt like just waking up and going back to sleep. I was just existing, and even that felt too heavy.
Coming to the U.S. wasn't about chasing a dream. It was about surviving. I came here to save my life.
Many times, I've had to face the question: "Why are you here in the U.S.?" or "Why Indianapolis?"
And honestly… I often don't know how to answer. I just smile.
Because how do you explain to someone that being here is the reason you're still alive?
That this city, unfamiliar as it may be, became a lifeline when everything else was falling apart?
The only voice that kept me going during the darkest times was from someone who believed in me. "Bose, keep hanging in there," Krista Martel would say. And somehow, I did.
It's been almost three years since I arrived.
And it's still hard—really hard. I'm still trying to find where I belong, how to heal, how to start over.
But I'm here. And for now, that's enough!!!
