Its that moment that the engines rev to a constant purr, and the clouds start passing by the windows and you see the tips of the mountains that it all finally hits me for the big one.
"Don't cry Quinny." with a giggle she added, "can't show weakness in front of my dad,” as she mumbled into the front of my shirt, I chuckled back and gave her a kiss on the forehead. In actuality, I didn't care if he saw Niagara Falls pour from what had become dark green dams over the past few weeks.
The plane takes a small dip to the right and I can see the patches of land like a quilt right out the little circular window. I hated leaving, I hated it so much. Last year I wrote an entire rant that I entitled "for fighting and leaving." I fight to leave, I leave for fighting, and then I fight fight fight after the fact and realize the fight I fought wasn't even worth fighting.
For one, I can't fight family, no matter how far away I get from them I will never escape their loving arms and helpful words (this was evident in the amount of caring words and the lack of scorn I received after totaling my car 1000 miles away from anyone I knew, because I had made a mistake, and probably scared the piss out of anyone who heard about what happened, a week prior). And no matter how far away they were from me I missed them. I missed my brother being a jerk, my sister being a pest, the dog pissing on the carpet and the cats attacking my feet when I tried to sleep.
Also, I couldn't fight my heart. After everything was set and ready and my mind had finally completed its 18 year fight to go to school far far away, I fell in love with a girl who had walked into the same places, done the same things and whom I missed in passing about a dozen times in my life. We were always about a minute late and buck short when it came to finding each other in the years before we finally did. She was a magnet to my eye the minute I saw her, athletic, smart, beautiful, pretty hair, big eyes, freckles and she laughed at my jokes and humored my attempts. Finally coming to a point in our lives when we felt it was ok to fall towards each other and instantly trusting one another to catch in mid-fall, we ran hand in hand as fast as we could.
When she was by my side I had come to the conclusion that I had wasted no time at all. Our first summer was flawless, we ate, we danced, we sang, we laughed and cried, we held and pushed and cheered all together. We did everything we could; the summer could have lasted forever. All of a sudden it was hours before she left and we were sitting wrapped in each other as we had so many times before. I looked in her eyes and held back the tears in mine, and realized I was ready to enter a battle with time and distance that would rival some of the hardest things I had ever done. To say it would be so hard to do this, might have been taken wrong by some, but anyone who really knew us, knew exactly what I meant.
Hard, yes, why? Because my heart doesn't even beat when its 1000 miles away. It floats in my chest and waits and assists my lungs force air in and out in a quiet attempt to pass the time, the minutes, the days the weeks until it was reunited with itself. Emotions where nearly drained by midmorning, when the dream of laying in bed with her had been interrupted with a bitter cold, an emptiness I have never felt in my life.
The attendant comes by with a beverage and I quietly choke out a random answer so that she will quickly pass. My mind hurriedly re-jumbles the pictures of smiles and the memories of tears and heavy breathing, of quietly sobbing on each other’s shoulder. This battle we had decided to embark on together, would destroy any typical couple. We where hardly typical.
In the first few weeks of knowing each other we had already agreed on having beautiful green-eyed babies. In the first few months, she had shown me how to live life from a different perspective, she had taught me how to smile and not just to laugh. By Christmas, we were agreeing with each other on the rules by which to play the game of a long-distance relationship, hardly realizing it was the game we would be playing together in a few months. By March, we had cracked so many "run away and marry me" jokes, on top of the half-hearted flirting that it was only natural to run to each other when things started cracking and crumbling.
By April she was at a family birthday party, in May I was on her grandparent's fridge, by June we had already decided the whole world would be jealous of what we had together, by July she had made my dad laugh, and by August she had become the first person I had been so close to, trusted and wanted more and more everyday. The captain's intercom dings but I quickly choose to ignore the announcement.
It was now September and I have never been to emotionally mentally and physically close to someone in my entire life. Everything I am and everything I ever was, I was perfectly content with when I looked into her eyes because despite the downs and despite the missed opportunities and the bad choices, I had her now and that's what mattered. I could never compare her to anyone I have ever met in my entire life because the comparison just isn't there, she is so far above anyone that to compare her would be a waste of time. She took the cake, she took my heart, and she had it until we could be reunited again.
The bit of turbulence as we descend into Denver is a jerking reminder that I am 1000 miles away (1027, I counted) from that person and it hurts like hell.