Me, a spy? That is an interesting thought. In some ways I suppose I could very easily fit into the life of a spy, or I could have before Abby and Joe became a part of my life. Maybe I should explain.
When I first came to the States, I was accused by my brother of running away from my life, when in truth I think I was searching for a reason to keep living. In order to do that, I found that I had to bury my past away. I suppose you could say I became an enigma. I didn't share more than the bare minimum of details about who I was or where I came from with anyone, and I never let anyone get close. I made a point of never staying too long in one place,and it wasn't unusual for me to pick up and leave on a moment's notice. Secrets became a way of life for me, and I became an expert on finding ways to evade the questions that seemed to come far too often when I found I'd stayed too long in any one place. All traits that would have served a spy well, but did nothing for the person I longed to be.
All that has changed now of course, and I no longer find I have to hide from my past. I have a family again, and I long for the stability of a permanent home, a place that my wife and I can grow old in together, a place where we can watch our son grow into a man. So, no, these days I would not make a good spy, the man that would have is no more, and I can't say I miss him.