October 27, 2004
I, naturally, arrived early enough to drive my friend home and the three concourses full of passengers prior.I love airports.
I love walking slowly and watching the varieties of character sweep through. I love the reunions of hugging and kissing, the hearty handshakes and even the complacent couple who would not dare share a passionate moment in the midst of so many other people (what would everyone think!?).
Within a month, I've had the pleasure of picking up two parties from the airport and have left with someone's phone number on both occasions (really, I'm not proud...). No, they're not people I would even consider calling back, but such novetly lies in these gestures and defines my every experience wonderfully! They're all h a p p y at the airport. They all thrive on the connection, the grounding, the simplicity of conversing after a long, long flight. They, none of them, seem burdened beyond the moment at hand. They are so happy.
Happy to share a cigarette in the smoking room, happy to meet the person they've been missing for two weeks, happy to be home, happy to take a break, happy to be somewhere else, happy to answer my incessant barrage of questions...
Today was only different for a moment or two as I stood there in front of the concourse, growing dizzy with remembrance, lost in his mercy, once again.
When I came home from a week with my Grandmother in Florida last year, he was there to meet me at Concourse D. I was so elated to see him that I ran to him, dropped my bag and threw my arms 'round his neck. Forever, it seemed. Forever. We smiled - no, rather, we grinned from ear to ear at the mere visage of each other. Forever, it seemed. I clung to his body, breathing him in full, laughing with joy. My Gorgeous.
We didn't worry a stitch about my bag not yet claimed, we simply stumbled over each other to the bar, ordered a Captain and Coke and a Miller Lite, walked to the smoking room and I melted into his presence. He listened to my every word, I gave him the souvenier ashtray acquired in West Palm Beach and I melted. I know he said it - he said that he missed me...
Thus ended my solitary stance at Concourse D. I retreated to the bathroom, partially recovered, and ordered a Miller Lite at the Pizza Hut stand. I snuck back into the smoking room, toasted him in my best honor and anxiously awaited another patron to relieve the bittersweet agony of my thoughts. Luckily, I was bestowed with a most interesting elderly woman and three roudy construction workers whose attention I could not dismiss. They somehow mangaged to provide the recourse I was desperately searching for and I was more than willing to go over and over my future European escapades.
And yet, there he was, as I walked by. My eyes mistaken for deepened longing. My thoughts strewn about his brightened smile at the mere arrival of ME. I nearly reached for his arm on the escaltor that I still cannot master, I almost turned to him in question and so there he was; painted on my heart.
Does it dissipate? Do I want it to? Who can cure these hiccups? Does he think of me? We never gave up. Despite it all, we never gave up. Why did we ever have to give up? Was there a 'good' reason? Was it my reason, his reason - both? Is it okay that I still feel this way? Would you mind if I cry for a bit? Is that alright? How about freaking out? Honesty - is that alright? Am I out of line? Haven't I always been? Can I look back for awhile? Wouldn't you look back in peace knowing I honored you in the same? Am I wrong? Than is there a 'right?' WHO WOULD BE MAD - is everyone mad? At me, that is... Angry that I should question it out loud instead of keeping it inside as perhaps everyone else would do? Is that allowed or does everyone have more righteous plans for me? So hell bent on taking him from me, but what are you leading me to? What is YOUR plan, what would YOU have me do?
How can I help YOU today?
What is better and what is worse? Here, YOU draw the lines. Too married, too recently divorced, too young, too old, too obnoxious, too crazy, too indecisive, too laid back, too dramatic, too willing, too overbearing, too complacent - TOO MUCH. It's ALL too much. But keep drawing lines as though you could never qualify. Keep believing that YOU have the answer, when, it's just geography. You're arguing about GEOGRAPHY - placements, boundaries, facts, figures, amounts, totals...
Pardon me, but I'm trying to figure out how exactly one goes about giving a DAMN about themselves. I'm trying to figure out ME before I worry about where you go to lunch or how you spend your Saturday or when I should call you back. I cannot even decipher my own handwriting. I cannot determine my own desires - not with ease.
I cannot see past where I left off. HE is where I was... and still am.
So, I'm sorry that I cannot be your all. I'm sorry that I cannot fill your time. I'm sorry that two days or three months go by. I'm sorry that I cannot abide by today's rules against tomorrows changes. I suppose I am somewhere else. I am here and all of you are there. I don't want sympathy, I don't even want understanding, I just want me. I just want a better me. I just want SOMEONE to tell me how he's doing. I want someone to either stay here or not end in anger. Walk away - FINE, but don't everyone be always so fucking pissed off. If I never had a thing to offer and never will, than TELL ME. All this anger. Like a scoreboard, a competetion - who's done this and that. What I've done and not done... Just love this fucking life and take what you can fucking get. Appreciate what you have out of ONE day and if you're pissed because it's gone, that's okay (scream, yell, cry, cringe, depair), but ultimately, THANK THE SOURCE, thank your lucky stars that you're HERE - whatever, whoever, wherever, however...
Don't just leave a message - drop by to say hello. Don't just say good bye - give a hug and thank someone for a smile. Don't get even - be better. I know it's hard; it's harder than anything else, perhaps! But don't walk away in anger - leave someone in PEACE. SPITE, PRIDE, SUPIERORITY... Whatever. I screw up daily and so does everyone else. What riches lie your pockets that outweigh my own? Oh, let us compare, shall we???! No, I'd rather not, thank you. But as long as you feel righteous, I suppose it's worthwhile.
Who's dying inside because you've walked away with your pride? Guess you'll never know; you've already walked away.