strength or stupidity

08/01/2007
christina

i am certain i have never grasped anything as tightly as these armrests.
as we taxi to the runway, the tears begin to flow freely... uncontrollably.
my mind is racing. i find myself overwhelmed by thoughts of you. images from this last week are flashing before me- how the corners of your mouth always raised just before you laughed, the way you looked on your skateboard as you glanced back to wink at me (and how it made me blush and lose my concentration every time), how you studied my face intently as if to remember exactly where every freckle is located... and most of all, the times you gazed into my eyes, leaving me feeling completely exposed.
suddenly i am jerked back into my disappointing reality.
the plane is picking up speed. every muscle in my body is tightened. my teeth are clenched so hard i have a headache, my knuckles are white from clutching the armrests, and the tears continue to pour down my face. i am breathing in large gasps.
the stewardess takes notice of me. she walks over, rubs my shoulder, and her previously harsh face softens with concern. in a soothing voice, she says, "oh, honey. just breathe. everything will be fine. can i do anything to help?"
i bitterly think, "lady, nothing you could possibly do would ease my mind."
i quickly admonish myself for responding to kindness with anger. unable to muster the strength to speak, i simply shake my head and look away.
the plane leaves the ground. i am now beyond crying; my entire body is shaken with sobs. i am getting sideways glances from the other nearby passengers. i have no desire to make a scene, but i am also entirely unable to regain composure.
the stewardess has seen this before. panic attacks during take-off are not so uncommon for her to witness.
the truth is i have no fear of flying. i have taken far more than my fair share of plane rides for my age, and am well-acquainted with every change in pressure, direction, and acceleration.
but this is no ordinary flight.
this is the plane that is taking me away from you.

an hour and a half earlier, you dropped me off at the airport. our goodbye was rushed; this, of course, was my fault. anyone who has ever seen me pack for anything would expect this. our short embrace, however, was more than enough time for tears to gather in my eyes. you kissed me one last time and told me not to cry, that we'd see each other again.
i know that you are right. but eight months seems unbearably long. i have no doubt that you are worth the wait, but i can't help but wonder- are they?
for the second time in my life they dragged me across the country against my will. it made sense the first time. i was younger then. and yet now at 20 years old, they still aren't allowing me to make my own choices.
i tried to communicate that i've changed, that i wouldn't be happy there. she said it wouldn't be that different... unless i was hiding something. as if she already knew.
he passively apologized. i know he doesn't prefer to live there either, which is exactly why he should have stood up for me.
i don't know if i'll ever forgive them.
these are the thoughts that filled my head as you watched me go a second time.

as i waited at the gate, i found myself needing to hear your voice.
our conversation was brief, but it was plenty long enough to reinforce my gut feeling that this was a horrible mistake.
they made the call to board the plane. suddenly i found myself paralyzed. i realized that it wasn't too late- i could still run out, hail a cab, and be back in your arms in a matter of minutes.
i began to think this through. regal is hiring. a friend of mine needs a roommate. i haven't even been accepted to school yet. and it's not like i'd be leaving a car there, as mine died on the drive back six weeks ago.
this is where i hit a brick wall- i already signed that damn lease. could i find a way to back out? i can't imagine being there for an entire year.
then there's my family. if i stay it will come across as a huge "fuck you." of course that is the last thing i would intend, but that doesn't mean anything. the truth is simply that i'm just trying to be happy, and that isn't going to happen in oklahoma. why is that so hard to understand?
but i know my parents. trying to explain that would be like reasoning with a wall.
i don't know if they'd ever forgive me.

they make the final boarding call. i'm not sure if it's strength or stupidity that carries me onto the walkway, but with every step i feel everything inside me screaming to turn and run. but i feel trapped. as if my hands and feet were bound and i had a guard on each side escorting me.
as if i were going to jail.
everything seems to be moving in slow motion. i hear my own heartbeat pounding. each step is increasingly heavier. i turn the corner and step onto the plane. i force myself to look up, only to find nearly everyone staring at me. every smile fades; conversations cease. am i really that obvious?
i take my seat and fasten my seatbelt.
trapped.
the stewardess closes the cabin door with a resounding thud i can feel.
locked in.
she makes the safety announcements. i don't hear a word.
all at once i am crying.
i am certain i have never grasped anything as tightly as these armrests.

once again obligation has outweighed happiness. duty has overshadowed desire.
if you're keeping track, mark down another defeat for my heart.
we fly almost directly over your house. i wonder if you sense my presence, if you feel my silent screams.
we continue to move east. every landmark i recognize reinforces that i am moving away from you. first the marketplace. the roof of the theatre. natomas high school. old sacramento.
these places all hold memories.
we move on to places that don't.
highway 50. business 80. carmichael. roseville. to the south i see folsom lake. the foothills. the sierra nevada.
clouds are increasing. i just barely see lake tahoe.
finally i can see nothing but a white blanket.
the stewardess asks me if i feel like eating, offering me a snack.
i can't imagine hunger. i shake my head.
i am still crying.
eventually i accept that there is no way off this plane now, and begin to relax my muscles.
the tears don't stop though. they don't stop for hours.
i am exhausted.

suddenly i sit up straight and open my eyes.
they are dry, but still feeling the effects of extended crying.
i have been asleep.
judging by the time, i slept no more than twenty minutes.
i ask the stewardess for a black coffee and stare out the window for the remainder of the flight.
my feelings of hopelessness grow stronger as we descend.
we land. i call you as soon as the plane stops. you describe your own experience as you drove away.
it somehow breaks my heart even more.
we know we will see each other again... but that doesn't make this any easier.
they finally open the cabin door.
i hang up the phone.
i walk forward. down the aisle. turn the corner. down the stairs.
into prison.
i look to the west and whisper.
goodbye, love.
may time pass quickly.

i don't know if i'll ever forgive myself.