I Flew A Thousand Miles to See You

Midnight on a Saturday. I just finished my shift. I was anxious inside. My stomach hurt, and I felt like throwing up. Something wasn’t right. You were out of touch, out of reach for far too long.

I sat in my dark car for a few empty minutes. I knew that I could not wait any longer for you to reach out to me. I had to talk to you. If you weren’t going to be honest with me and how you were feeling, I couldn’t change that. But I was your person, and I was going through hell. I needed you.  If you weren’t going to pick up the phone, I was going to have to talk to you in person, even if you were a thousand miles away. I knew in my gut, that I needed to do this.

So, I bought a ticket to see you early the next day, and I bought a return flight for late that same night. I filled my car with gas, showered, packed a backpack, drank some coffee, and I left for the airport at 2:00 a.m.

I got to the airport three hours early. I wandered aimlessly. Each hour ticked by more slowly than the last one. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. I just walked and sat on the hard, cold airport chairs.

I wrote you a letter while I was waiting. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. You had no idea I was coming to see you.

I could have been in the hospital, and you wouldn’t have known. You were either dead or ignoring me. That’s the only explanation I allowed myself to think of while I sat there hour after hour.

The three hour flight felt like three hundred hours. Every time the seat-belt sign came on, I looked out the window hoping to see land rather than endless white clouds, any indication that we would be there soon. But no. It took for what felt like an eternity.

Finally I arrived in the unfamiliar city you now call home. A place I knew nothing about.

I ordered a car, and I suddenly found myself within minutes of your place. My heart was beating so loudly, I wondered if my driver heard it. My hands were shaking. I swear every butterfly had found refuge in my stomach.

You still hadn’t returned my calls. I didn’t have a key to your place. So I stood outside your building until someone let me in.

I walked up to your door unable to catch my breath. God, what am I doing? Why the hell am I so nervous to see my boyfriend of almost four years? I knocked.

I heard some fumbling around. I waited, holding my breath.

You opened the door, and your mouth fell open. Confusion and fear washed over your face. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Those were not the words I was hoping for. I wanted excitement, but instead I got dread.

You didn’t let me into your apartment. You started walking out saying that we needed to talk. Right then I knew. You had someone else in your apartment.

I ran inside, pushing past you. And I saw a girl go into the bathroom. She was wearing a towel. She locked the door, saying not a word.

My head was spinning. I felt like I was in a nightmare. You didn’t deny the situation. You said it just sort of happened. You told me to get the fuck out. You said we were over. You said I stopped going after my dreams, and we needed to end it. You told me I should never have come there. You were full of excuses.

After over three years, I never would have thought you would give me up just like that, as though we never meant anything.

Tears ran down my cheeks, and I held your face gently in my hands, staring at you.

“I could have loved you forever. You were it for me. You were who I wanted to grow old with. And you just gave that up.”

You didn’t stop me as I gathered my things from your place. You just stood there. As I opened the door to leave, I looked at you

“I will never see your face again. And I won’t ever talk to you again.”

You tried to hug me. Bullshit. I didn’t want you to touch me. I was done with you.

I ran out of your building and onto the streets of a strange city full of strange people. I looked behind me, and you hadn’t tried to follow me.

I sat on the sidewalk, put my face in my hands, and I let the tears come. I let the pain consume my body and seep into my bones. I played the scene over and over again in my head like a movie.

I sat on a sidewalk a thousand miles from home, feeling as though I had lost the one person I ever really felt at home with.

I flew a thousand miles to see you.

 

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Frustrated Mess

I’m trying to stay busy. I’m trying to distract myself from the disappointment that is building up inside of me. When I’m alone, when I’m laying in bed at night, that’s when it’s the hardest.

No you didn’t die. Thank God. It’s not the end of the world. I’m not on Mars, and you’re not on Pluto. You just moved away. I know, to some I may be overreacting. But I don’t care. I can’t help how I feel inside.

We used to spend a few days a week together. It was like that for three and half years. That’s a long time. I forgot what to do in my spare time because I always wanted to spend it with you.

Yes, this separation long-distance thing can maybe be good for me. Yes, it will force me to be more independent. It will force me to make new friends. It will force me to try new things and explore where I’ve been living for the past four years. But after I’ve done all of these things, then what?

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not trying to sound like a pathetic girl who can’t have a life or be successful without her man. I can do those things. I have confidence that I can go out and accomplish my dreams without my guy.

But I don’t want to.

Here’s the difference between me and him: I want to live my life, my dreams, my successes, my failures, my hardest moments and my happiest moments with him. But he moved.

He’s over there. And I’m over here.

He asked me to move in with him. But, call my old-fashioned, I want him to ask me to spend the rest of my life with him before I do that. Before I leave my family and my friends and drive to a place I know nothing about, I want him to commit to me and tell the world how much he loves me. Am I crazy?

This is not a new relationship. I’m not wanting to spend the rest of my life with a guy I just met. I know him. I’ve been with him for over three and a half years.

I know what I want. I want him. Forever.

But he hasn’t declared the same for me.

So, here I am. I’m diving into what I want with or without him. I won’t wait for him forever.

Now, I have a trip to Australia to plan for, a job to find and some friends to go hang out with tonight.

Signing off,

-Frustrated Mess

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