An alternate universe where everything is fine--
It’s 9am, and I’m at Los Angeles International Airport-- a chaotic sprawl of people, thousands upon thousands of people, each with a different story, a different secret in their heart. A never-ending wave of people coming and going, each traveling to a different place, connected to a different line. Yet my heart is solely focused on one.
I shift my feet, half leaning against the metal railing which separates the people flying in from the people expecting them. I am there alone, as this has to be a secret-- driving two hours while my parents aren’t home to find someone who my parents don’t know. I don’t know why I had to keep this secret. All those hours spent texting and calling and laughing and crying-- wouldn’t it be easier to just confess? But then, bad things could happen. God knows what.
They and I needed a runaway plan-- a plan that wouldn’t involve death or destruction, wouldn’t involve taking their life or having their life taken from them. A plan that, ideally, had music in it, had freedom. I had my own fantasies and so did they-- probably. I’ve learned too late in life that not everyone cares about me the way I care about them.
And then I see them-- a friend, more than a friend, someone who had probably been the highlight of my life for the past couple years or so. A dozen playlists, thousands of texts, way too many calls, and seeing them in person for the first time. I don’t know what I feel at that time. I am laughing, I am crying, I am finally healing the aching pain in my heart to be with them.If I travel the world, go on a journey, this is what is waiting for me at the end. Just to be with you, to hold you and never let go.
It’s 9am, and I’m at Los Angeles International Airport-- a chaotic sprawl of people, thousands upon thousands of people, each with a different story, a different secret in their heart. A never-ending wave of people coming and going, each traveling to a different place, connected to a different line. Yet my heart is solely focused on one.
I shift my feet, half leaning against the metal railing which separates the people flying in from the people expecting them. I am there alone, as this has to be a secret-- driving two hours while my parents aren’t home to find someone who my parents don’t know. I don’t know why I had to keep this secret. All those hours spent texting and calling and laughing and crying-- wouldn’t it be easier to just confess? But then, bad things could happen. God knows what.
They and I needed a runaway plan-- a plan that wouldn’t involve death or destruction, wouldn’t involve taking their life or having their life taken from them. A plan that, ideally, had music in it, had freedom. I had my own fantasies and so did they-- probably. I’ve learned too late in life that not everyone cares about me the way I care about them.
And then I see them-- a friend, more than a friend, someone who had probably been the highlight of my life for the past couple years or so. A dozen playlists, thousands of texts, way too many calls, and seeing them in person for the first time. I don’t know what I feel at that time. I am laughing, I am crying, I am finally healing the aching pain in my heart to be with them.If I travel the world, go on a journey, this is what is waiting for me at the end. Just to be with you, to hold you and never let go.
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