back home - day 3

 back home — day 3

by Mr. Mak


the last loop i had left to close was with my old barber — abdul.

not just a barber.

a man who kept me sharp,

listened, joked,

held space without ever trying to fix me.


i walked into the shop and he froze.


“bro… i swear i was just thinking about you a couple days ago.

where’d this guy disappear to?”


that’s when i knew —

this wasn’t random.

this was alignment.


two years since we last spoke.

two years since i sat in that chair with confusion in my chest

and too much noise in my head.


but this time?


i walked in grounded.

clear.

whole.


we caught up like no time passed.

i told him about the book.

about the becoming.

about finding myself in silence.


he told me about fatherhood,

what it means to grow up because someone needs you to.


for a moment,

the clippers stopped.

the world paused.


i looked at him and said:


“yo… thank you.

you held me down when i didn’t know who i was yet.”


and he smiled —

that quiet, proud smile older men do

when they see the kid finally become the man.


when we wrapped up,

i pulled out cash.


he waved it off.


“don’t worry about the beard lineup.

get me next time.”


i said,

“i might not be back for years.”


he nodded,

still smiling.


“that’s okay.

i’ll see you when i see you.”


no cling.

no force.

just respect.


love

came full circle.


and the next time i see him,

nothing will be the same.




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