I haven’t even left the house yet.
I do not know why I feel this way.
Perhaps it’s because I really hate airplane flights?
Well, I mean, I kind of dislike all traveling in general, but right at this moment, I really don’t want to leave.
I’m downloading songs on my Ipod, hoping that will give me some connection to home.
I don’t even know what I’m missing or think I’ll be missing.
Missing whatever is going to be happening here, without me?
It’s only two little weeks. What is wrong with me…?
It’s fear of the flight. That’s what it is. I don’t want to be on the airplane alone, with my pain.
The pathetic pain that’s always there but does really nothing at all, unless I’m stuck on an airplane by myself, sitting upright, and forced to think about it.
So I’m bringing Ibuprofen and music, a book and something soft to roll up and put behind my back, and some medication from post surgery that hasn’t expired yet…
The shuttle picks me up in 27 minutes.
Then I have to deal with the pain…and the sleep deprivation (I really tried to sleep).
I just really hope that I can ignore it.
Because I really have to see my friend.
I can’t stay here.
I don’t want to leave.
But I’m going to.
The pain of staying the same is greater than the pain of change…I hope.
Goodnight. Good morning. Goodbye. In this somber mood I’m going to go get ready and head to the airport. If my Mother was here she’d tell me that I’m so gloomy because I need to sleep, and everything will be better in the morning.
She’d be half right, but I always get annoyed when I’m told that my feelings are merely a result of sleep deprivation…and it’s too late for me to sleep now anyway.