Sunday, November 15, 2015

Gate A50

It's been a few restless nights and long days since I've last posted. I moved states, twice...got married...got unmarried...and am actually still in the process of that last one. I wish I could sit here and say everything is better. Vivid memories of the nights sitting there writing...the sadness, the anger, the hurt...I feel it rush back into me; combing the lines of my past posts.

Now it's November, the cold already came, the snow is falling from the sky...but what isn't. I'm in an airport, I have been for 24 hours now. A feeble attempt to make it back home ended up in a missed flight with one missed standby after another. I say home, but honestly I couldn't define 'home' right now. If you asked me today I'd construe the airport as 'home'. I wish I could tell you I have a plan. A plan is the last thing I have.

There is a part of me, the kind of part you don't realize it was there until it's gone, it disappeared somewhere 25,000 feet above the Colorado rockies. Maybe, I don't really know where it dropped off the face of the earth, it could be somewhere in the Mongolian rim. Chances are I won't find it again, chances are I'll have to learn to live with out that bit of humanity that made me a decent person.

This airport, this flight I'm about to take, it's not the first time. I've made this flight thirty three times, trying to defy logic, or fate, or something. Finding something I haven't found, so I keep booking the next available get-out-of-here and make-a-run-for-it ticket. It's like always checking to see if the grass is greener, taking a blade or two from each place just to compare it. Thirty three times of not being any closer to an answer.

This is thirty four, and I still can't sit here an say it's my last. I'm the headphone cord in your bag, tangled in everything else, not being used for the indented purposes...because, well, it's too much effort to untangle.

That part of me I told you is unfound, I can't really even explain to you what it was. I don't feel any different, I pinch myself...and it's all the same. Saying it's that reasonable rational voice in your head, it's the closest I can come. It still talks to me, it's just saying things I never thought it would say. It forgot about it's soul, but yet somehow I still feel mine.