The air felt cold and fresh when it hit my face. The plane ride was only two hours long, but it felt like two centuries. I had music to serenade me, hoping it would calm me down; calm my heart, calm my heart, calm my desire. If you guessed that it didn’t help a damn thing, you would be right. Every song reminded me of him, whether angry, lustful, happy, or sad. He was written between the lines of every lyric. Every time my eyelids shut, I could see us moving together, bodies held tight as we sway with the music. When my eyes open, all I see are lonely people filling up this airplane. They all look bored, sad, and very few hopeful. I wondered if anyone else here felt the same anxiety that was flowing through my body. Perhaps there are others, but by looking at them, I would never guess.
I am guessing that no one would be able to see the desire flowing through my blood as they glanced at me. I most likely appear to be another twenty-something-year-old girl, aboard an airplane, looking for something she has lost or something she has never found. But desire? This poor girl, she must have no clue what desire is. I do, more than they could ever imagine. Though time lingered for far too long, eventually I see the city beneath me. It feels like it is my first time my eyes have fallen on the rainy state, but I know it hasn’t even been a year since I last flew away from this place; this place I never thought I’d miss.
I hold my breath as we make the final descent, almost in disbelief that we are finally about to hit the ground. Though I planned this visit for months now and though throughout this plane ride I kept thinking of him and what we would do with our time together, it feels as though it was all a surprise to me. My heart is skipping beats as I walk throughout the terminal. He isn’t meeting me here; I told him I didn’t want to be cheesy and run into his arms as I got off of the plane. He was never a hopeless romantic, anyway, that is why I (almost) loved him.
I hail the taxi after I have grabbed my tiny luggage on the way out of the airport. It is a man who doesn’t ask me too much, aside from what brings me here. “I’m going back home,” I say, with a smile hidden under my scarf. No matter how long I had lived here, I never got used to the cold. I told him where I wanted to get dropped off; Kerry Park in Queen Anne. He thinks it is a bit odd that I am not going home first, but I tell him that is where I will find all I need for this trip. The traffic isn’t too bad as we head into Seattle, but little droplets of rain hit the windshield.
The sun is beginning to set so I am not surprised to see that there are many people adoring the view from my favored hill. I ask the driver to drop me off anywhere and he does, accepting the cab fare with a genuine smile and off he goes. I cross the street, looking for him within the crowds of people. My mind keeps going back to the first night that he brought me here, about a month after we started dating. Once again, a smile creeps on my face and as I get lost in thought, I feel a tap on my shoulder. I know who it must be, but knowing it didn’t make my heart any calmer when I turned to face him.
Before I get a chance to say hello, he pulls me into a kiss and suddenly I know I won’t be making the flight back to California.